The Lady in Green
by civilwarrose
Summary: Set 21 years after the movie. Chip, now grown, returns home and encounters the Enchantress of his childhood. Adam and Belle's son and daughter learn their father's secrets, and the French Revolution threatens. Can the Enchantress come to their aid?
1. Homecoming of Chip Potts

**The Lady in Green**

**Beauty and the Beast**

**Disney owns Beauty and the Beast and its characters.**

Chapter 1- Homecoming of Chip Potts

Lumiere and Cogsworth sat in the carriage opposite the young man, who had been quiet and somber for the journey. Chip Potts noticed that they even refrained from arguing amongst themselves in front of him. The two servants chatted and joked and did everything they could to cheer him up.

"Everyone cannot wait to see you again, Chip," Cogsworth told him. "They are making your favorite dish, shepherd's pie-"

"And for dessert, pudding _en flambé_!" Lumiere interrupted.

"Everything has been cleaned and fixed up splendidly." Cogsworth continued.

"You may also want to know that there are some lovely new _mesdemoiselles_ on staff!" added Lumiere with a wink.

Chip raised his head slightly, glancing at Lumiere through a lock of blonde hair that hung in his eyes. "That reminds me: how are your little girls?" he asked.

"_Oho_! Our daughters are no longer little!_ Ma petite_ Chandelle is eighteen, and sweet Félicie is nineteen!" Lumiere replied. Cogsworth nodded and smiled at the mention of his own daughter.

"And how are Vincent and Hélene?" Chip asked the two servants. "They must be...thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Why, Prince Vincent is seventeen! Princess Hélene is fifteen, and she is the spitting image of her mother!" exclaimed Lumiere with pride.

"It's really been that long, hasn't it?" Chip lowered his head again, slumping down the plush carriage seat. "I wish I wasn't so tired. I really want to get some sleep before I have dinner and see everyone..." He yawned.

"We understand. You certainly may. We just cannot help but be excited to see you after the past few years!" said Lumiere.

"I only wish that circumstances could be better, Charles," said Cogsworth, his tone more serious.

...

Chip Potts, at twenty-eight years old, was now known as _quartier-maître_ Charles Bouilloure of the Royal Navy of France. He had decided to Frenchify his surname when he enlisted six years earlier, so no one suspected he was of English heritage as he sailed his first mission. The war with England over the revolution in America had ended, and he did not wish to fight people whom he thought could be kinsmen.

The sea was everything he'd dreamed of. He was free to travel all the waters of Europe, and he had recently come back from across the globe - balmy Saint-Domingue in the Caribbean. He had been on the crew of the great frigate _Galatheé_ under Captain Joseph de Cambis.

Chip was no longer a lonely young man. He had plenty of peers around him, and he had made a best friend, a cobbler's son named Pierrot, whom he could spend hours talking with. Pierrot was impressed that Chip had grown up as a servant for French nobility. The fellow sailor kept telling him he wanted to someday see that magnificent castle; as he had grown up in a poor rural village nowhere near aristocratic homes.

Only a year into his enlistment, Chip's hard work and positive attitude had allowed him to graduate from seaman to the rank of quartermaster quite quickly. He had gotten acquainted with the _contre-amiral_, who was of noble blood himself, being a duke and a second cousin of Prince Adam. There had once been a ball held at Duke Mériadac's palace in the south of France, and a few of the best young enlisteds were allowed to attend after a hard month at sea.

When Chip was at the ball, he happened to dance with the duke's daughter, a pretty duchess named Joséphine. They ended up strolling the gardens, talking, and quickly developed an attraction to each other. For the young sailor, it was the most exhilarating night of his life. Joséphine was sweet and intelligent, with a tumble of honey blonde curls, and when it suddenly rained that night, they rushed inside the horse stables, laughing. They talked into the night, and Joséphine surprised him with a kiss on the cheek, his first ever kiss from a girl. They promised to write to each other when they said goodbye.

They wrote for the next few months, and when they reunited at the Mériadac palace, he proposed marriage. She accepted. Chip spoke with the Duke, who had no qualms about the good-hearted, hardworking boy not being a noble. After he gave his blessing, the sailor asked if he and Joséphine could be wed at Prince Adam and Belle's palace in eastern France.

It was an unfortunate choice. Old family feuds were still simmering among the aristocracy. Duke René-Louis Mériadac remembered that Prince Adam was the grandson of Prince Jules-Alexandre, who had supposedly 'stolen' the grand castle in the mountains from René's father, who was Jules-Alexandre's brother. Adam's Grand-Père Jules had a noble wife, but sired his third-born son, Alexandre, through a commoner mistress. That son was Adam's father. Mériadac felt that the great castle should still be the property of his family branch. It made no sense at all to Chip, Adam, or Belle, and was indeed very frustrating.

A quarrel erupted during the wedding rehearsal dinner in Adam's grand ballroom. The Duke, who had been Chip's respected superior, ranted and raved at Adam and Belle over things they had nothing to do with. Mériadac even made an insulting jab at the handful of English servants, whom he identified by their accents.

Then, Chip did something that he soon regretted. He identified the sweet old English maid as his mother, and proclaimed that he was raised French, was completely loyal to his country, but by blood was 'as British as Limeys and crumpets.'

Mériadac was incensed. He called the wedding off, and ordered his daughter to leave with him immediately. As her father walked her away, Joséphine glanced back at her beloved with a distraught face, mouthing the words,_ 'Je t'aime_.' Nothing had changed for her.

The young man was heartbroken.

Chip was able to transfer and serve under a new admiral; Mériadac could not prove the sailor's disloyalty to the country just because of his heritage. The irony was that the duke had British relatives himself, a branch of cousins descended from Prince Charles Stuart.

As for Chip, he dealt with the pain of his failed engagement with the distraction of sailing. His love and his lady was the sea.

The sun and salt gave his fair skin a ruddy glow, and his hair was sun-kissed gold. But he suffered a good share of injuries working on deck, and walked with a slight limp ever since he fell from a mast he was rigging.

One winter, while on break in Normandy, he received a letter addressed from the household of Prince Adam and Princess Belle. It was written by Cogsworth.

_Dear Charles_,

_This letter is quite late forthcoming. I am grieved to inform you that your sweet, dear mother Emmeline passed away last November. I am weeping as I write this, dear Chip. Maurice is handling it well, but he is dreadfully quiet, and no longer tinkering with his tools and inventions. Mistress Belle is devastated, as we all are. I tried to write you through Captain Richelieu, but the letter came back 'return to sender'. Master Adam and I had to travel in order to find out the name of your current commander. I hope this letter finally finds you, so that you can come pay your respects to your dear mother._

_Your friend,_

_George A. Cogsworth_

Chip was anguished. He had been out to sea from mission to mission, and had received the news so late. He never got to even say goodbye to Mama. The only consolation was the support of Pierrot, who had also lost his father while on a voyage. The other young man was the only one he could weep in front of.

He tried hard to numb himself with his work, as it would be some time before he was finally given a release to go home to the castle.

...

The carriage arrived at the palace gates. As it proceeded through and the three passengers disembarked, Chip saw a billowing, light blue dress rushing toward them from the castle doors, like a bluebell flower slowly growing as it came closer. With it appeared a lovely face, with flowing auburn hair. He exclaimed "Belle!" as he walked with his slight limp through the gardens.

She rushed to him, and to his surprise, he realized that it was Princess Hélene, not her mother. The daughter of Belle and Adam was now fifteen years old, and resembled her mother greatly, her hair a slightly lighter shade of auburn than Belle's. She also had her huge hazel eyes and heart shaped face.

Hélene collided with Chip, giving him a warm hug. Belle, Adam, and seventeen-year-old Prince Vincent trailed behind her, and soon hugs and kisses were flowing. Vincent was nearly as tall as Adam. He looked much like his father in facial features; his bright blue eyes in particular. Vincent's hair was darker than Adam's, much more like Belle's in color. He was slender in form, and most likely had not stopped growing yet. His voice had changed from that of a boy's to a man.

So many years had passed, and the family had changed. Chip looked around and expected- for a brief moment- his sweet elderly Mama to rush to embrace him.

But Mama was gone.

"I'm home..." His face crumpled in grief as he locked eyes with Belle. She gave him a soothing look.

"Oh, Chip..."

He dissolved into tears in the princess's arms. She felt like the closest thing he could have to a mother now.

After some time, the family walked together in the gardens and through a little forest path, which led to a small servants' cemetery. It was easy for Chip to identify; his Mama's was the immaculate white stone covered in English tea roses. Emmeline Potts DeFleur, née Brown, had lived a rich and full eighty years.

Maurice came up behind him, and they stood together until the tall pines' shadows grew long.

"I need to go on with my life, Maurice. What would Mama say?" he said, voice thick with grief.

The old man smiled gently. "She'd say, 'chin up, back straight, and stop your grousing.'"

"Yes, she would," the sailor mused as he took Maurice's arm and helped walk him back to the castle, despite his exhaustion. Lumiere met them on the castle stairway, and rushed to help Maurice up the steps, as the elderly man's legs were stiff and tired. Belle's papa argued of course, not wanting to be aided. When Maurice was safely settled in his easy chair in the parlor, Chip went up to his old room, near his mother's old quarters, to retire early. He slept through dinnertime.

After breakfast the next morning, he visited and caught up with the royal family, and the servants' families as well. Cogsworth's daughter Felicity and Lumiere's daughter Chandelle still fought as much as they did when little girls. Pippa and Babette, their wives, were doing well. New little babies had been born to younger servant couples since Chip had left.

Chip was especially happy to see the girl who had been like a sister to him growing up- the maid, Mirielle. She was four years older than him, now thirty-two, and unmarried. Mirielle was, in a word, a genius. It was a shame she wasn't allowed to attend university just because she was a woman, and not only a woman but a castle servant at that.

Mirielle was extremely loyal to her Master Adam and Belle. However, she despised King Louis and the Bourbon dynasty with a passion. She read the newspapers voraciously, and social justice was a topic she would talk about until her cheeks glowed red. Chip listened to her speak and confirmed everything that she brought up about the advancing Revolution.

Mirielle finally paused from her speech as she and Chip sat in the parlor balcony.

"You kind of fancy him, don't you?" he asked.

"Who?" She narrowed her pretty brown eyes at him.

"Robespierre."

"I've never seen him in person. But I support him wholeheartedly," Mirielle declared, ignoring Chip's attempt at teasing her to not give him the satisfaction. "If only he could seek out Master Adam and Mistress Belle, he could see what a good leader of the nobility ought to do for his subjects. He could get their support, as Adam no longer sees those monsters in Versailles as anything close to his family." Mirielle shook her head in revulsion. "Do you know how long Master Adam and Belle have been deceiving His Majesty? Have you heard about the jewels?" She leaned toward Chip with a grin, anxious to reveal a juicy secret.

"Jewels? What jewels?"

Mirielle lowered her voice. "In the east mountain of this castle...on castle property...some precious gems-_ diamonds_\- were unearthed! Adam and Belle allowed the villagers in Molyneux to mine them out. The village has prospered so much in the last twenty years! And what's more, is that instead of taxing the villagers like Louis commanded, Adam just_ sells_ his portion of the diamonds to traders across the border. The Germans, the Swiss, anyone! And then, he sends a portion of his diamond earnings to the King's treasury. He decieves that tyrant Louis about charging taxes. I just hope and pray it never runs out. Our principality has been secretly thumbing its nose at Louis and Marie-Antoinette for years now! I just hate seeing Adam having to go to Versailles every year to kiss their feet. I'd love it if Robespierre learned what Adam and Belle are doing! He'd love_ them_!" Mirielle gushed.

"Bad idea," said Chip. "I don't trust the guy! He wants to spill as much royal blood as possible. And I'd just keep quiet about diamonds- you know how greedy people are." He sighed. As book-smart as Mirielle was, she was also sheltered and naïve.

"They need to hide, Mirielle. Or leave the country. I wish I could just get all four of them to dress in plain clothes and use aliases- I can arrange to transport them all to the Caribbean, on the _Galatheé_. I'm going to suggest it to them tomorrow."

Mirielle looked upset. "This is serious, isn't it?"

Chip nodded. "Yes. It's very serious."

The door opened, and in burst Vincent. "What's serious?" he asked, the grin on his very Adam-like face fading away.

Chip gave the young Prince a pained look. "I...um..." He sighed. "A political uprising, Vincent. Lots of crazy things happening in Paris. I was just there after I got back from my voyage."

He averted his eyes from the boy, stood and walked away. He didn't want to use the word 'Revolution' just yet. Vincent and Hélene were still only children.

...

Soon after lunch, and more mingling with the family and the servants, Chip rode one of the palace horses in the woods, for a chance to breathe the forest air and reconnect with the venues of his childhood. He had already walked through the gardens where he used to play alone, the hills he used to sled and the river he used to skate on in the winter. He crossed the high bridge over the river and dismounted his horse, sitting down on the bridge and letting his feet dangle over the water as it flowed downstream. He gazed at the church steeple marking the village, and remembered a few of the boys he had once known there.

Chip was contemplating taking a ride to the village to pay his old friends a surprise visit, when he noticed movement to his left. His heart jumped when he saw an enormous grey wolf only three meters away, staring at him with intelligent blue eyes.

He took a sharp intake of breath. The wolf began to glow with a blue, misty hue, and transformed quickly into a man.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Potts," said the aged man. He was well dressed in a blue suit, and almost resembled an aristocrat except he had plain, short grey hair instead of the typical wig the pompous royals in the city wore.

"How- how did you do that? Who are you?"

"I'm Monsieur LaBarre. I've been acquainted with Their Highnesses Adam and Belle for over twenty years," the old sorcerer replied. "You may just call me Fabien if you wish. I am an Enchanter."

"Enchanter? You mean just like-" Chip remembered the cruel, crazy Enchantress who had caused him to live suspended for a decade as a six-year-old boy in a teacup form, until Prince Adam broke his Beast spell with Belle's love.

"Yes, Just like Mademoiselle Delphine, the Enchantress who was your old tormentor," explained Fabien. "She wants to seek audience with Their Royal Highnesses. But first, she wants to speak with someone close to them to prove herself. She wants to help. I have decided to approach you on her behalf."

"I don't understand," said Chip. "She was an evil witch who went to some magic prison or something. I was only seven when that all happened right after the spell was broken- but my mother explained it all later. Why would she be back?"

He had no patience for this in his life again. France was falling apart, he was grieving his mother, and now he was being subjected to the crazy hocus-pocus of his enchanted boyhood. It was the last thing he wanted right now.

"I want you to seek out the Enchantress and let her explain things to you. It is about Their Highnesses' safety," Fabien informed him.

"But-_ how_ am I supposed to know where she is?" Chip wished he had stayed in the castle if he knew he would be faced with this.

"She lives in a cottage in the forest close to the village. It is on the opposite end of the village from the road you usually take into Molyneux. The church side. If you have trouble, stop in the inn and pub. Villagers- likely children- may be able to help you." Fabien bowed politely, and instantly transformed back into a wolf.

"Wait! This is a huge forest! How am I- Fabien!" Chip shouted in exasperation. The wolf gave him an encouraging look with his human-like eyes, and turned to trot through the forest path in the direction of the village. Chip remounted the black horse and began to follow him.


	2. Return to the Little Town

Chapter 2- Return to the Little Town

Chip rode on and followed the wolf-disguised sorcerer for about half an hour until he reached Molyneux. As he entered the village, people looked at him curiously. When he tried to find a familiar face amongst the villagers, he lost sight of Fabien. Surely the Enchanter was smart enough to not go into town as a wolf. He would frighten people and risk being shot by the townsmen.

Chip gazed around to see if he could find the blue uniform Fabien had worn, in case he had transformed into his human state. He knew it would be easy to spot. All the villagers wore warm, earth-toned hues, as it seemed that blue and purple were reserved for the royal family. Chip realized he was wearing a blue vest and trousers himself, and it attracted attention.

"Bonjour, monsieur! Do you come from His and Her Highness' court?" a nearby woman asked.

"Yes, I am," he confirmed. "Do you have any messages you would like me to relay to Prince Adam and Princess Belle?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." The older woman smiled. "Just give them my good wishes. I'm Marie, the baker's wife. I made Their Highness' wedding cake long ago," she gushed proudly.

"I can do that, Marie," Chip replied politely. He dismounted his horse and scanned the street, continuing his search for Fabien.

He was in the middle of guiding his horse, Léon, to a hitching spot when he saw a boy with a blunderbuss run past him. The boy stopped in front of Chip and gasped.

"Monsieur Chip! You're back!" The round-faced young boy grinned widely. "I'd tell Maman you're here, but I gotta get this huge _wolf_ I just saw! Did you see it? Gotta go! Wish me luck!" He turned and ran up the cobblestone street. The blunderbuss he was carrying was much too big for him, and looked like it was going to slip out of his arms at any moment.

Wolf? Chip had to follow the youngster to stop him from hunting Fabien.

"Wait!" he shouted. He left Léon behind and caught up to the boy, despite his slight limp. He grabbed him by the shoulder. "Stop! Don't shoot it!"

"Why not?" the child protested.

Chip got a closer look at the boy's face and realized he was one of his friend Sophie's children. Sophie had been a maid in the castle long ago, and had grown up under the curse. After the transformation, she'd gone on to marry the village tavern keeper, Lefou. She had been entrusted to keep the Beast curse a secret.

"Henri, don't you think it's dangerous to run around town with that gun?" Chip asked, trying to bide some time for Fabien to escape. He finally remembered the name of one of the Lefou children. He hoped it was the correct one.

"I'm not Henri," the boy whined. "I'm Jean!"

"All right, Jean," Chip said, correcting himself. "You don't seem big enough to be running around with this." He reached down, attempting to take the blunderbuss from him.

"Jean! I told you not to hunt alone!" An older boy's voice shouted from behind them. Chip turned around to see a tall young man in his late teens come up to Jean. He was taller than Chip, with longish brown hair similar to the younger boy's. It took a moment for the sailor to realize that he was Sophie's oldest son, Henri-Gaston Lefou. He was nearly all grown up.

"Monsieur Chip!" Henri's reaction was the same as Jean's - surprise and delight. "Wow! It's great to see you!" He put a hand out for Chip to shake. "Come to the tavern for a beer, won't you?"

"But what about the wolf? Don't you wanna get it for Papa? It's huge and it had weird glowy blue eyes! Can't you help me?" Jean argued.

"Hunting can wait until later, Jean," replied Henri. "Let's welcome Chip back to town." He clapped Chip on the shoulder, then took the gun from his little brother, leading them to the pub.

Chip knew he was going to lose track of Fabien now, but remembered the sorcerer's odd instruction of village children knowing the Enchantress's hideout. He followed the brothers to the town square with its familiar fountain. As Chip gazed at it, he smiled, thinking of Belle. The Princess had told him that before she'd lived at the castle, people would look down at her and call her odd for reading at that fountain.

Chip tried not to make a face as he read the sign above the door of the pub- 'Gaston's Tavern.' That nasty man had been dead for twenty-one years. He wished that the Lefou family would at least change the name of the place, but knew it was best to hold his tongue about it.

"Pop! Look who's here!" Henri called. The pleasant smells of cinnamon rolls, pork shank, barley ale, and hard apple cider assaulted Chip's nostrils. Now he definitely knew he was back in Molyneux. He hoped he would see Sophie.

Instead, her diminutive husband rushed toward him. Lefou barely looked any different to Chip, though he was certain the short fellow must be at least forty-five by now.

"Bonjour, Chip! You're back!" Lefou plunged both of his pudgy hands forward to shake Chip's with vigor. "Wanna beer?"

"Bonjour, Lefou! It's good to see you! Actually I'd rather have some cold water, if that's all right," Chip replied, looking around at all the old animal heads on the wall. They needed a good dusting.

"Can you serve him, Jean-Ignace?" Lefou asked his youngest child. The boy grinned and ran off to fetch the water.

"You must be proud of them," Chip said. Growing up, he had always liked visiting the tavern, seeing Lefou and Sophie and their four children. Their lives seemed so simple and charming.

"I sure am! You see how tall and strong Henri-Gaston is now?" Lefou gazed up at his fine looking six-foot-two son. "He's getting to be a great hunter too! He bagged a bull elk last week - it's right there!" The tavern keeper proudly pointed up to an elk's head mounted not far from where the portrait of the arrogant Gaston de Soleil still hung.

"I guess I was just lucky, Papa. Not sure about 'great.' I think Jean was planning to go hunting today, too," Henri commented, setting the gun on the counter.

Jean, who resembled his father much more than Henri, returned with a tankard of cold water for Chip.

"Did you take the blunderbuss without asking me first, Jean?" Lefou asked his son.

Jean frowned guiltily. "Yeah...sorry, Papa. It's just that there was a big grey wolf with bright blue eyes that was running outside of town! Henri was working here and I thought he'd miss seeing 'em, so I thought, y'know, I'd just try to get it myself."

"It's okay, son. I know! How about all three of us go hunting together tomorrow?" suggested Lefou, ruffling Jean's hair. The eleven-year-old boy beamed, and helped himself to a cinnamon roll on the bar counter.

"Jean...um, did you say the wolf had blue eyes that glowed?" Henri asked his brother.

"Yeah! It was weird. Not like a normal wolf," the younger boy replied.

Henri looked alarmed. "You should just leave it alone," he replied sharply.

Jean gave him a pouty-lip look. The front door bell jingled, and the small boy walked away to greet the patron who had come in.

Chip looked over at the teenage boy with curiosity. "Henri, what's so special about that type of wolf?" he asked. "Do you know something about it?"

"Um, no. Not really." Something in his downward gaze made Chip think he was hiding something.

"Are you sure? Because-" Chip glanced over at Lefou, who was with another customer, an old man who had just arrived. Little Jean was next to his father, tearing at his cinnamon roll and munching happily.

"Because I know something about...that wolf," Chip told Henri quietly.

"You know about -" Henri looked nervously over at his father and brother and began to whisper. "The enchanted people?"

"Yes!" Chip whispered back. "How did you find out? Your mother?"

"No. My Maman doesn't know anything about enchanted people. I just found them when I was out hunting," Henri explained.

Chip was relieved. He knew perfectly well that Sophie knew about enchanted people - and enchanted castles, Beasts and objects for that matter. But she was still hiding her past from her husband and children to protect Prince Adam's good name. And, Chip thought irritably, to keep up her husband's happy illusion of a heroic Gaston.

"Can you come outside and walk with me a minute?" asked Chip.

"Sure, I guess," the teenager shrugged. Chip waved Henri outside to a quiet spot, the arched bridge over a stream near the tavern.

"Tell me about the enchanted people, Henri."

"Well, there's two," Henri began. "The wolf with blue eyes is a guy. He's magic. I don't know his name. I saw him in the woods this summer and he transformed just as I was shooting him with my bow! He turned from a wolf to a man and he stopped my arrow with a magic wand! I apologized because I didn't mean to shoot him. Then he showed me the Lady in Green's cottage and asked me to knock on her door and ask for something to eat. She was nice. She gave me tea and cake." Henri finally paused in his story to allow Chip to get a word in edgewise.

"The Lady in Green?" Chip asked in surprise. He recalled from his childhood that Delphine wore a green gown.

"She's a witch," Henri explained. "She makes things float with her magic wand. When I saw what she could do, I...asked her if she could make lots of barley and wheat appear so Papa could still make ale and we wouldn't go out of business. There was a drought this summer. The farmers had it bad, and we did too. Papa and I can't brew without grain. And she made a whole bunch of it appear- it was like a miracle! I didn't tell anybody how I got all those bags of barley." Henri looked guilty. "Don't tell my parents. They'd think I was nuts."

"Henri, I think it would be safe to tell your mother," Chip assured him. "She'll understand."

"I'm not sure," Henri said doubtfully. "But she does like to read fairy tales. It's almost like the story of the magic beans she used to read to us."

Chip thought about that for a moment. "Were there any other fairy tales she would tell you? Not read, but tell?" He was trying to gauge how much Sophie might have shared with her children about the Beast and her life in the castle.

"No. They were all from books." Henri confirmed. "But Papa tells us true stories that are better than fairy tales! About all the great stuff his friend Gaston used to do. Sometimes I wish I could've known him. My middle name's Gaston, after all. Papa said he killed a huge Beast who haunted your castle and died doing it, because he fell. How come Prince Adam never honored Gaston? You'd think he'd make a statue of him, or..." Henri looked at Chip hoping for some sort of insight the man could have had on the subject.

"I really don't know," Chip said, not sure how to respond. All he remembered was that Gaston was an evil man who wanted to kill the Master in a mad fit of jealousy, not to save the castle. What Henri had described was the village's account of Gaston's death, which was far from accurate, but kept Adam's past a secret.

Chip remembered Fabien's words and decided to ask the boy about the Enchantress directly. "Where is the magic 'Lady in Green?'" he asked. "Could you show me her cottage? I have...a problem that she could help me with."

"Sure," Henri agreed. "Over this way," He pointed to the east road that led out of the village, past the church and a farmfield. The road led to an opening of a forest trail used by the village's hunters.

Chip went back to retrieve his horse. He rode and Henri hiked through the trail, past the river and waterfall, until finally, the thick evergreens cleared to show a quaint little cottage, surrounded by a circle of boulders. Chip couldn't help but notice the rose carvings on the shutters and door. _A rose - how characteristic_, he thought.

Chip knocked on the door.

The Lady in Green quickly answered it. The older woman was undoubtedly the Enchantress from Chip's earliest memories. He remembered her pale eyes which had gazed at the servants from where she had stood in the castle doorway.

...

_Chip had run downstairs from bed, barely six years old, alarmed by a loud, animalistic growling. _

_"Mama! There's a monster in the castle!"_

_"Do not worry, love. He won't hurt you." Chip ran to his mother's protective side. In another room, a monster growled and smashed furniture. Everyone- Cogsworth, Lumiere, little Mirielle, Louis the carriage footman- were staring at the pretty, but strange blonde lady at the doorway, gripping a magic wand. She pointed it at all of them, muttering words to herself. A funny feeling, like a strange tickle, rippled through his body. He was blinded. When he could see again, everyone was gone, but there were...things...Things with faces... _

_"Mama! Where are you? What happened?"_

_"I don't...know..."_

_"MAMA! My arms and legs are gone! I feel funny!"_

...

She still wore her pale, silvery-blonde hair long. Her expression was kind though, a huge contrast from Chip's childhood memory of the terrifying, cold beauty waving her wand.

"Bonjour, I know who you are," she said matter-of-factly. "You were the company I expected. I sent Monsieur LaBarre to contact you."

"Why did you ask for me?" Chip asked suspiciously.

"I need to show you something regarding Prince Adam and Princess Belle. Please come in." She gestured to Chip, while giving Henri a look that suggested this would be a private meeting for Chip only.

"Madame...I gotta go back to the village," Henri said reluctantly. He had caught sight of a huge mirror sitting on a table that was swirling with ethereal colors and images, and it looked intriguing. "I have to work. Helping my father make beer - thanks to you," he added.

"Oui, have a good day, dear boy. And I am a Mademoiselle, not a Madame," Delphine said with a kind nod. The teenager left, leaving Chip alone with the Enchantress.

"I am going to fix a cup of tea," she said to him. "Would you care for any?"

"No, thank you," Chip replied as he watched Delphine go to a cupboard and take out a tea tray. On the tray was a little white teapot trimmed in pink and purple, and a set of matching china cups.

His heart exploded in anger. How dare she mock him and remind him of what she did to him and his Mama!

"What is _that_ for? Are you trying to torture me again?" he shouted.

The Enchantress studied Chip in interest. She noticed his rage at the sight of the tea set and seemed to be gauging his reaction to it.

"I apologize. Now I know for certain that you are one of the people formerly cursed." She whisked out her magic wand, and tapped the tea tray, turning the pot and cups a dull brown color.

Chip blinked his eyes rapidly. "My mother passed away while I was at sea. I never got to say goodbye to her!" he choked out. His anger wasn't so much for himself; he had been a happy, carefree child in spite of what she had done, but how it altered his mother's life.

"I am sorry for your loss, child. I had never seen anyone deal with a cruel curse with such a positive attitude as she did. Your mother was a saint," Delphine replied.

"Why are you acting so nice all of a sudden?" Chip asked the Enchantress pointedly.

"Because I need to pay society back," she replied simply. "I have lived in a wretched prison for years. I only want to live in peace, and I need to help your Prince and Princess...and their children...with their urgent trouble."

"What troubles do _you_ know about?" Chip snapped. "Do you actually care about us 'mortals'?"

"Yes. Prince Adam is in far greater danger than anything I could have imagined. The working class wants to kill and overthrow all the royal families in France. I know of this and yes, I _do_ care! It is the only way I can pay him back for the hell I put him through in his youth!" Delphine exclaimed, her voice raising.

She turned to the huge mirror, and adjusted it on the table so Chip could see it better. She began to speak to the enchanted oracle.

"Mirror of Fate...show this man all of the things that may come to pass for Prince Adam, Princess Belle, and their children!"

...

He watched a montage of the chaos that was already starting to unfold in Paris. He had been there last spring, and heard the people in the city expressing their discontent. He felt it was justified, but what he saw in the image- the fate of the aristocrats in Paris- made him ill.

The scene changed to show a group of revolutionary bounty hunters holding meetings and poring over maps, naming names. They then rode their horses swiftly through the countryside, heading east to the mountain country near Prince Adam's castle. The mirror then faded to black.

"But...when will it happen? When will these men be coming to the castle?" Chip cried, his eyes tearing up.

"I do not know." Delphine shook her head. "It may be within months, or _weeks_. The castle is still far away and secluded for the people of Paris, but eventually someone will come looking for it. Prince Adam's name is listed in the royal records, and since he rules this region, there is record of financial transactions between his castle and the palace of the King. I have nothing else to do in my life but watch over everything the prince does. I need to know, so I can help. He, his wife and children is all I think about these days." The sorceress sighed, as if she were about to cry herself.

"But what can you _do_?" Chip demanded.

"I can cast good spells, but not dark spells. I am still planning what can be done." She sighed. "I keep thinking of the children. Young man...I cannot remember your name-"

"Charles, but I am called Chip," he replied curtly.

"Chip - I want you to talk to the young Prince and Princess and have them come to me. It is better that they learn it through me, and soon. They are very intelligent children and they should not be lied to."

"You're right." Chip swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll do it. I'll tell Vincent and Hélene to come and see you."

"Merci," said Delphine. "The sooner the better." She gently let the brown teapot float to the little stove, where a flame erupted within.

"I need to go now." Chip announced quietly as he went to the door. He glanced back. "You're on our side now. It's just hard for me to believe."

At that moment, the door opened and Fabien entered in his human form.

"Fabien!" Chip exclaimed. The Enchanter had been outside the cottage listening in on the conversation, presumably to test Delphine's sincerity and to judge her.

"Well done, Delphine." Fabien said to her.

"I will try to gain your trust as much as I can," the Enchantress insisted to both the young mortal man and the old sorcerer, before Chip bid them adieu.

...

By dinnertime, Chip had arrived safely back to the castle. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he ascended the grand staircase, remembering his promise to the Enchantress. He went up to Vincent's room and knocked on his door. The boy let him in.

"Where have you been all day, Chip?" asked Vincent.

"Molyneux," he replied.

"Did you talk to anyone?"

"Some of the villagers, and..." His heart was hammering. How was he supposed to tell Vincent 'I saw an Enchantress who turned your father into a monster for ten years until your mother broke the spell, and now this Enchantress says you will all die unless she does some more magic?'

Chip would have rather faced a gale in the Pacific than tell Vincent the truth.

"Did you stop at that tavern?" Vincent asked. "I know Maman doesn't like me to go there. But I like those pork shanks and rolls they have. Ol' Lefou finally served me my first ale last week."

"Yes, I did, actually," said Chip. "I'm not one for ale and beer, but I talked to Lefou and his sons."

"Henri is the one I usually talk to, he's close to my age. Nice fellow. But he has lots of absurd stories to tell." Vincent said matter-of-factly.

"Stories about that hunter whose picture is in the pub?"

"Yes, that silly dead man too- Henri and his papa never stop with their old tall tale about him slaying some big _beast_ right here in the castle." Vincent told him with a chuckle.

Chip's eyebrows flew up at that comment. He didn't think that Vincent frequented the village all that much.

The prince continued with his talk of the little town, and its little people. "And now, Henri believes there's a witch in the forest. He said she cast a spell that made grain appear after the drought. I don't know. He's quite loopy. Typical of Molyneux." Vincent shook his head a little condescendingly, dismissing the villagers.

Chip's breath caught. He couldn't believe his luck. Vincent was already partially aware of the situation. That talkative boy in Molyneux had been a godsend!

"Vincent...That boy's telling the truth! About the witch...I spoke to her today. She has a big secret about your father. You have to meet her and talk to her. Hélene, too," he confessed.

"What?" Vincent looked at the sailor in confusion. "Chip, are you feeling alright? How do you know she's a witch?"

"It's true," Chip confirmed. "She knows your parents. Vincent...she is a big part of their past, and she wants to help you - all of you. This is a big Pandora's box. I know I'm going behind the backs of your parents...not to mention hurting the Master...your _father's_ image, but you _have_ to find her and talk to her!"

Chip was visibly shaking. He didn't know whether he was doing the right thing or not. What if this was all a cruel scheme of the Enchantress? What if Delphine was still evil?

Vincent shook his head, even more bewildered. "What secret? What about my parents' past?"

"I can't _tell_ you right now!" Chip replied, frustrated.

"Why not? If you won't tell me, then my sister and I will find the witch. We'll order Henri to show us the way, he can't say no. We're royals!" Vincent shot Chip a mischievous grin.

"Well, that's fine if you want! If you're anything like your parents, nobody can stop you. If you do go meet her, _tell_ me!" Chip pleaded. He didn't want the wrath of an angry Adam upon him.

"We _will_ do it," Vincent assured. A knock came on the door; a maid asking if the prince wanted his bedlinens changed.

"No thank you, Louise," Vincent replied to the maid on the other side of the door.

...

After a few days of whispered conversation between Chip and Vincent, the young Prince was able to convince his sister to come with him on a secret trip to visit Delphine. The siblings snuck out and took their horses at the crack of dawn, before Cogsworth and Lumiere and the rest of the servants awoke.


	3. Cottage in the Forest

Chapter 3- Cottage in the Forest

Vincent rode determinedly through the forest on his black stallion. Hélene rode at his side, on her bay gelding. She tried to keep up as her horse kept stopping to scratch his hindquarters against tree trunks. Pulling back on the reins, she let her brother's horse lead. A few minutes later, they approached a clearing- and there it was.

It was a quaint, thatched-roof cottage, like that from a fairytale storybook. On the arched wooden door was a rose carving from top to bottom, and each little shutter of the windows had a carved rose as well.

"So an eccentric lady lives here. That doesn't mean anything. You know how the villagers like to gossip and tell tall tales about people," Princess Hélene said in a dismissing tone as she and her brother dismounted.

The royal children knocked on the door. Within seconds, a woman opened it, and gave them a calm and questioning smile. She was middle-aged and blonde, strands of grey in her cascading hair. Her emerald-green dress was simple, not much different than the clothing worn by the maids back in the castle.

"Bonjour," she greeted. Her eyes seemed to register a hint of recognition when she looked at Vincent. The seventeen-year-old boy had never seen her in his life, yet she wouldn't stop gazing into his soul. It made him feel uncomfortable. How could she know him?

"You are the Prince," she stated with confidence.

"What makes you believe that?" Vincent asked, deciding to challenge what the stranger claimed to know.

"I don't believe, I know. And you have your father's eyes." She turned her gaze to Hélene. "And you- you are the young Princess. Your eyes are like your mother's. You are the children of Adam and Belle, the rulers of this province." She bowed to them in respect for their positions. "Your family has been on my mind for a long, long time."

This stranger seemed odd to speak of their parents with such familiarity. "Come in," she said, opening the door and gesturing them to follow her. "I will fix you a cup of tea, or a drink of plain water, if you would like. Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I always like when young people visit."

The little kitchen inside was simple and cozy. The Lady in Green poured two cups of tea from a kettle on a woodstove and gave them to the royal children, who had seated themselves on tiny chairs.

"Why didn't you make the tea by magic, Madame?" Hélene asked.

"Because I choose not to."

Vincent's bright blue eyes lit up at the words. "You must tell us the truth. It's said that a witch lives in these woods. Some people said you grant people magic wishes. They said it was a cottage like this."

"It is true. Am I to be condemned to death?" Her voice was still calm.

"No, but I heard things from a good friend that _you_ have something to do with my father. Are you an old paramour? It can't be...you're much older than him." said Vincent.

"It is nothing of the sort, Your Grace."

"Then tell us!" demanded the Prince. "Something is bothering our father! He came home from Versailles very upset. He says that we might have to leave our castle soon! And my good friend told me the same. His name's Chip. He saw you before."

"Children, follow me into the other room." she said, quietly and with resignation. They got up from their chairs and followed her into a small sitting room. They were struck by a huge painting on one wall.

"What is _that_?" Hélene exclaimed.

"That's the strangest creature I've ever seen! Does it exist?" Vincent asked. "And why is it wearing a uniform just like Papa's?"

The painting depicted a monstrous, burly creature with sharp fangs and horns on its head, covered in fur. One peculiar thing was that it was wearing Papa's favorite style of blue dress suit. But what was even more odd was that its eyes were not only just like Papa's, but Vincent's own.

"What the..." He stopped himself before he swore out loud. "What IS this?" He rounded on the woman.

"I shall explain it to you. But you must sit down, and listen without questioning or interrupting me," the Lady in Green demanded.

Vincent and Hélene took seats, looking at each other with bewilderment.

...

After at least a half hour, the royal children were overwhelmed with emotion. Vincent wanted to physically attack the woman, and he was about to leap out of his chair when the Lady in Green pulled a wand from her pocket and aimed it at him in defense.

"So what are you going to do? The same thing to _me_? You just told us you can't curse people anymore or they'll throw you back in prison!" Vincent shouted.

"Why did you put him through that? Ten years?" Hélene exclaimed in fury. "He looked like _this_ from the ages of eleven through twenty-one?" She pointed up to the painting.

"Enough!" scolded the Lady in Green. "I am about to show you something. If your father were to continue on the path of his spoiled, selfish childhood, and if he were not isolated from the rest of his family- which includes your current King of France, the events of his life would have unfolded very differently. You children, for one, would not exist."

She walked across the room and opened a door of a simple little corner cupboard, and took out an enormous mirror, its frame inlaid with emeralds.

"The Mirror of Fate. It shows how any human being's life may have gone if it were not for the absence of one event. I wished I'd had one in my youth, but at my age, I realize my life went exactly as it should have. I haven't been happy with what became of my own life. I made mistakes. But I served a purpose! And that purpose was the fate of your father."

She held the mirror before them.

"Show the alternative fate of Prince Adam. Show what would have happened if I had not intervened."


	4. The Enchantress' Tale

Chapter 4- The Enchantress' Tale

Vincent and Hélene watched as the Mirror conjured a moving image of a young boy of around ten years of age. The angry orphan prince was throwing tantrums and ordering his servants around, including poor Mrs. Potts. Hélene's eyes teared up at the sight of the kind woman, whom she missed dearly.

They watched as the boy grew older, into his teens. He went to Versailles to live with his uncle and became involved in the extravagant lifestyle of the ruling class of France. His life consisted of lavish parties and rides in gilded coaches speeding past crowds of starving, desperate citizens, whose cries of despair were ignored by Adam and his royal relatives.

Adam grew into a young man, and he became betrothed. By his uncle's choosing, he was wed to a pretty Spanish princess with shy brown eyes and a timid demeanor. The Mirror showed this girl crying often. Adam was never there for her in her days of frequent illness, and the evening after she suffered a miscarriage, Adam was shown in the mirror being kissed passionately by an older courtesan. Two other women were shown with him in separate scenes of passion.

Vincent and Hélene thought they were going to be sick. This was not the Papa they knew at all. Maman was the only woman for him! And the thought that they themselves would not have been born in this scenario was hurtful.

Yet, there was more. The time sped up to the present day. Papa looked similar in the Mirror now to what he currently looked, but his clothing was more elaborate and he had a harder, almost cruel expression on his face. He had no living children in the scene that was unfolding. He seemed to do nothing but drink and revel in the debauchery of the court.

The scene shifted to the streets of Paris. The common people chanted, shouted and sang songs of revolution. An unknown wigged man in lavish royal clothing was attacked and knocked off his horse by a throng of _sans_-_culottes_. Noblemen and noblewomen were being put in chains and imprisoned for their crimes against the people, who had risen up and become a force to be reckoned with.

A group of men were standing by a large contraption that Hélene and Vincent had never seen before, but its purpose was all too clear. The tall wooden frame held an enormous metal blade atop it. A man holding the rope laughed and shouted about the 'noblemen's heads that were about to roll.'

...

"STOP!" cried Hélene. "I don't want to see any more!"

Vincent also began to shout in rage and despair. "Please, put it away! I understand it all now. I know what is disturbing my father! This is now coming to pass! But why show us this when there is no hope? I'm not afraid for myself...b-but for my mother and sister-" He touched Helene's hand, and the girl's face went pale- "and for our father, who is good and innocent! He has done nothing but good for the people of our land!"

"I have the power to save your family," stated the Lady in Green quietly.

"But how?" asked Hélene, confused. "Your magical law forbids you to cast spells upon mortals like us! You are willing to risk being put back into prison for us?"

"There are spells I am still allowed to cast," explained the Enchantress. "I will no longer cast curses, dark spells meant for harm. In my youth, I was taught hate. Hate for people such as you, the sans-magiques. Mortals. I loved having power, and I cursed your father simply because I could. I never meant to help him, or teach him any lesson. It was for myself, what I could prove to my own family that I could do, even to a royal mortal in high standing. I used deception and chastised him for his misbehavior. Yet as time went on, I realized I had inadvertently given your father a gift."

"Maman," Hélene said softly. "Our mother was his gift. She was a peasant girl. She would have never known or loved him if you had not done what you did."

"That is true, but it was more than that. You saw what he could have been like in the Mirror? He is nothing like the father you love, _non_?"

"No-" Hélene stopped to think for a moment. "But I think he could have learned and grown to be a good man even without a magic curse on him. If everyone depended on a magic curse to make their lives right, we'd all be looking around for fairies and witches instead of learning to think for ourselves."

Vincent looked over at his little sister with admiration. When they were small children, he had hated that she was a know-it-all, despite her being nearly two years younger. Now she was not yet sixteen, and he had to admit, she was wiser than some of the adults in their lives.

"She's right, Madame. I think you're giving yourself too much credit. As if magic was the...the cure for everything!" He looked back up at the painting of the Beast. The woman must have painted it or created it herself, as a way to gloat about her powers.

"Is that why you have that? To remind yourself of the power you had?" he asked her bitterly. "What does that help us now? The people of France are about to kill every noble they can find, just because our distant relation, the King, has become a tyrant. Why don't you go to _his_ palace and turn him and his big-wigged wife into hairy beasts?"

"Be patient and listen, Your Grace," the Lady in Green insisted, ignoring his suggestion. She continued to speak.

"I am a powerful Enchantress. I used to do evil. I served a prison sentence, given to me by my fellow sorcerers. I have been hoping for a real opportunity to do good. This Mirror of Fate is not my own, but was given to me by the sorcerer who arrested me long ago. He was using it to watch over your parents."

"What is your plan? Who was the man who arrested you, and was watching over them?" Helene asked, intensely curious.

The Lady in Green poured the two, and herself, some refills of tea.

...

"Let me start way back, to my youth. My real name is Delphine Dufresne. My family was one of the most powerful Enchanted families in all of Europe. As a child, I went to a special school for sorcerers. I was taught that magical people are better and superior to mortals. That is, you - the majority of humans on earth who don't have special magic powers. My parents believed that in the extreme. They wanted to terrorize, wipe out and destroy all mortals. But others in our world believe it is right to leave them alone and keep our society hidden. Wars have been fought over these beliefs for years."

The royal children were listening in interest. "That's just like our world," Hélene replied. "Those with money and titles are trying to oppress those with little. It's unfair. But our parents have never been like that. We know that peasants are just as valuable as us. Our mother was once a peasant, after all."

"_Oui_, you understand, then." she said, acknowledging the girl just briefly. "When I was a young woman, I wanted to make my parents proud, so I wandered France, spying on non-magical people. I decided to watch over a great castle - your castle. I wanted to cast the most powerful spells that I'd learned at school. Many spells are illegal in our world, because the leader - our King, if you will - had outlawed all dark magic. I saw your father as a child, and saw all of his misbehavior. I kept my book of spells with me, and I finally found one that I felt I should curse him with. It was the curse of the Beast."

She glanced at her painting. The two young people gave her a look of revulsion.

"And, I turned everyone else in the castle into an object. The members of your staff who were raising him didn't treat him as a parent to a child, but as catering servants. If human, they would have run away in fear. I quite enjoyed doing that spell. It was terrible of me, I know."

"Everyone _else_, too?" Hélene asked. "That would mean-"

"Chip! And his mother, and Cogsworth, and Lumiere, and all of the servants who had been there when he was growing up!" Vincent exclaimed. "I need to talk to Chip about this. This is the secret he was afraid to tell?" Then, the full meaning of what she had said hit him. "Objects? What kinds of 'objects'?" he spat out angrily.

"That is unimportant now," said Mademoiselle Dufresne. "Harmless household objects. Clocks, candles, teapots, cups, wardrobes, chairs. They still could speak, move about, think and work."

"That is insane! It must have been a terrible way to live," Hélene exclaimed bitterly. "They must have hoped and prayed every day that Papa could meet a human being to love him and look past his appearance. But the way he looked, how could he be expected to go out and meet real people?"

"I didn't care at the time," the Enchantress admitted. "I left them all, as I couldn't have cared less about mortals suffering. I believed he couldn't break the spell anyway. And I didn't want him to."

"You were a wicked witch!" cried Hélene.

"Yes. I was. But somehow, things worked out for your father, and I got my punishment," she said in humility.

"Who finally arrested you?" inquired Vincent.

"It was a family of magical law enforcement men. A Monsieur LaBarre, and his two grown sons. They caught me in the village with the help of three peasant girls. I had given them a minor curse. I remember the day well." She suppressed a faint smile. "After I had been tried, sentenced and served my ten years, I was given probation. I was to live alone in exile."

She took a sip of tea, and continued. "Monsieur LaBarre, the Chief of the Enforcers of Magical Law, told me about your father's life since then. He still associated with your family. As part of my probation, he made me sit in his office, still in chains as a prisoner, and showed me this Mirror. He showed me the exact same thing I just showed you today: how my actions had altered your father's life. Since the curse had ultimately led to a positive outcome, although unintended, he deemed me suitable for release and has been monitoring me by Magic Mirror ever since."

"Two weeks ago, he arrived at my cottage. He told me that I had an opportunity for heroism, because Prince Adam and his family were going to be in grave danger through no fault of their own. You know now what that danger is. He gave me his own Mirror of Fate to keep in my possession, and he told me that magical intervention would save you."

"Why do we need magic to save us?" Vincent asked. "Why can't we do it for ourselves? We can leave France."

"Leaving the country will take time, Your Grace. Let us aid you with magic. Your friend, the young man whom you call 'Chip?' Monsieur LaBarre - my former enemy - has already sought him out. That is why Chip alerted you."

"We know! But can't Monsieur LaBarre do the magic? Why trust a convicted 'evil witch' to do it?" asked Hélene.

"That was what I told LaBarre! But he told me he wanted me for the job, which I do not understand. In fact, he insisted on it. 'For my own good,' he said. Not long afterward, this Chip managed to discover my hiding place here. With the aid of a village boy, of all people - a boy who had visited me before. I invited Chip in, and he was very suspicious of me. Do you see this tea set?"

"What about the tea set?" Vincent looked down at the teacup he held - white china with gold trim and a pink and purple painted base. His had a small chip at the rim.

"He knew who I was, just by seeing these. He became furious, just like you. He wanted to wring my neck when he saw the teapot here." She reached down to the table and touched a pale finger on the delicate little teapot with its pink and purple lid, a lid that resembled a maid's cap. "You see...he spent his early childhood as a cup, just like the one you hold in your hand."

"What?"

"Yes. He was a little cup like these, but with the face of a child and completely sentient. His mother was a teapot, just like the one here."

"No wonder he was upset!" Hélene exclaimed. "His mother just passed away over a year ago! We all loved her so much." She and her brother gently set their cups down.

"I did not know that. I'm sorry for your loss. I regret that they all had to spend part of their lives that way," the Enchantress said gently. She was silent for a moment. "I suppose I should finally show you a small example of my wand magic. It will be harmless."

Delphine Dufresne took her wand from the pocket of her dress again. She aimed it at the portrait of the Beast. In an instant, he turned into a picture of their father. Prince Adam looked just as the children knew him, a handsome man in his forties with bright blue eyes, slight lines at the corners from years of good humor, and red-gold hair, a few strands at his temples beginning to turn white.

Next, she pointed to the teacups and teapot, and they levitated, floating gently to a nearby cupboard and settling there.

"We believe you, but we need to trust you completely," whispered Hélene softly.

"I'm beginning to plan some spells. For now, I want you to go home and speak to Chip and tell him of your meeting with me. If I can earn your trust, Chip's trust, and your parents', then I can help you all the faster."

"Merci," replied Vincent, as the two began to take their leave of the quaint cottage.


	5. A Better Plan?

Chapter 5- A Better Plan?

"You met with her?" Chip said as he approached Vincent and Hélene in the castle gardens. He sat on the fountain next to the two siblings. The fountain was a favorite enclave of Hélene's, surrounded by high hedges and flowering bushes. Autumn had chilled away the summer's flowers, but the hedges were bright with red and gold plumage.

Vincent gave Chip a brief nod. Hélene pulled a scarlet leaf from a nearby bush and crinkled it in her hands, nervously. "I'm scared, Chip," she confessed. "I don't want to trust that lady. After what she did to all of you? I just want to run away. Across the border, or somewhere."

"There's not enough time. For all we know, the revolutionaries could be on their way soon," Chip replied.

"She never told us what magic she could do yet," said Vincent, his eyes fixed on the rippling water. On the ride home from their visit with the Enchantress, he had been silent and pensive, not letting his sister speak to him.

"I wish she'd hurry," said Hélene.

"I'm starting to doubt she can do anything. She might even be lying about being a good person now." Vincent added. He looked over at Chip, who was also thinking the same thing.

"I have a better idea," Vincent stated as he turned to Hélene.

"What is it?" Hélene asked, brushing the dry leaf bits from the lap of her dress.

Vincent began to explain eagerly, "You know the trips to Paris that Maman and Lumiere take every year? They visit the orphanage and donate money from the royal treasury, but it's anonymous. Maman wears plain clothes and she just calls herself by her maiden name, 'DeFleur.' She doesn't even tell the orphans that she's the Princess of the Alsace-Lorraine province. She's just plain old Belle, reading books to the children and bringing them charity. I've always wanted to ask her if she can take us with her. What do you think, Hélene? You, me, Maman, Lumiere, and maybe you too, Chip! They don't really know who we are anyway. We can just wear plain clothes and blend in like ordinary citizens!"

"Are you sure that would work?" Hélene asked skeptically. "We haven't been to Paris before, and it's so frightening now! All the arrests and…" she whispered- "executions. I don't want to be anywhere _near_ it! Even if no one knows who we are, it's still horrible. What if we see -?"

"It will be safe," Vincent assured her. "We can stay in the church abbey like Maman and Lumiere do and live amongst the nuns. Who'd think princesses and princes would want to spend time there?"

"That's really not a bad idea at all, Vincent!" said Chip. "Instead of trying to run away from the fire that's coming, you run right to the center of it! You think like a good military strategist, did you know that?" He waved his index finger in the boy's direction. Hélene had a hopeful look on her face. She began to warm to the idea.

"No, I guess I didn't," Vincent said, feeling a slight tinge of pride. He had always wanted to be part of something, rather than sit idly in his parents' grand castle waiting to grow up. "I need to talk to Maman about this, though. I'm not sure what she'll think."

"But what about Papa? His relatives are there and they know who he is," said Hélene with concern.

"I think it's better he leave France for a while, I hate to say it," said Chip.

"You mean Papa would go one place and we would be in another? How long? I couldn't stand being away from him for so long!" Hélene's anxiety began to grow.

"It isn't for certain, Hélene, but you have to think of his safety. There's a chance he could be recognized if he went with you to Paris. I saw your great-uncle and some of your cousins once, at Duke Mériadac's party. I didn't speak with them personally, but they sure look an awful lot like your father, and there are paintings of them all over the city."

"Everyone says I look like Papa," Vincent added.

Chip studied Vincent for a moment, his brow furrowing. "Your hair is darker. But if you smile a lot, get your hands dirty and dress like a _sans_-_culotte_, you will fit in with the crowd of Paris boys. The Bourbons and your long-lost cousins, the de Rohans, never smile."

"I still don't want to be away from our father!" Vincent argued, and looked over at Hélene, who was still battling tears. "Can't we just wait awhile until we hear what the witch says about her magic? If she did all those crazy things to you and Papa years ago, she could help...I think."

"I'm still not sure about the Enchantress," Chip argued. He had grown increasingly skeptical since he had been there a few days before. "I've spent three days thinking about her. She's been known to pull a lot of tricks. There were more things she did that I remember a little bit. Nasty, sneaky things. Just a few weeks after...the curse was lifted off us, she tricked some servants into letting her into the castle and she almost tried to turn your father into a Beast again!"

"She did?" Hélene exclaimed, her eyes widening. "That is so cruel!"

Chip nodded. "Yes! Mirielle remembers it better than I do. The Enchantress was arrested after that. I know she did her time in prison, the whole sad story-" He shook his head. "She pulled the nice and sweet act on me when I was in her cottage, but now I'm starting to think she's tricking us. Why doesn't she just show up and talk to your father directly? Instead, she sends Fabien to talk to _me_, then after I see her, she asks for _you_ two! Delphine is just plain scared of your parents, I'll bet my life on it."

"That mirror she has- it scares me. _She_ scares me...but it's more because of the bad news she told us. I just don't know," Hélene mused.

Chip stood up and sighed. "All right, we need to think about where your father can go. I had an idea before...but I don't think it will work now. It's too late."

"What's too late?" Vincent asked.

"I actually thought of having him come on my voyage to the Caribbean," Chip explained. "Only there won't be one until next spring. My captain cancelled all his voyages because he's worried about his family. He's a Viscount, so he and his wife and sisters are targeted. That's why I was dismissed from duty and allowed to come home. But if the Enchantress' magic mirror is right, we can't wait that long! Your father has to cross the border to Germany, or the Holy Roman Empire. The Habsburgs might take him in. Except the winter's coming, with the mountains, and the thick forest...I just don't know how we can tell him-"

"CHIP! WHY are you talking about me and making plans behind my back?"

The voice growled angrily from behind him. Chip and the two teenagers turned with a start to see the tall, imposing form of Prince Adam.

"Papa! W-we...how long were you here?" Vincent stumbled over his words. His father had been out walking behind the hedge rows.

"_Long_ _enough_!" Adam snapped, glaring at Chip. "You cannot make plans about my political asylum without letting Belle and I know about it! Chip- what is this talk about an Enchantress? That is none of my children's concern!"

Adam's face was turning bright red, and his fists were clenched with rage.

Hélene's tears, which were subsiding, burst forth again, this time fueled by anger. "But Papa! He's just trying to save your _life_!" she cried. "The revolutionaries will find you and kill you! Kill _us_! Why didn't you tell us about the revolution? And why didn't you tell us that a witch turned you into a _Beast_?"

Adam's eyes widened in an expression of dread. He froze as still as a statue as his daughter's words sank into his mind. She wasn't supposed to know. Vincent wasn't supposed to know.

"I- I couldn't." His voice was barely audible.

"Did that really happen? A magic curse on you?" Hélene wanted to know the truth immediately.

"Yes. It did...happen." he said quietly. Hélene had never seen her father looking so scared, so vulnerable.

"Oh, Papa!" Hélene sobbed loudly and ran to her father, burying her face in his strong chest. Adam embraced her and lowered his face to the top of her head. He stroked her soft auburn hair, his face a picture of remorse.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't. I wanted to leave it all behind. I love you too much, _mon_ _ange_."

Vincent approached his father, and Adam embraced him along with his sister. Chip stood by the fountain, wishing that he could disappear.

"Adam?" Another voice rang out behind the garden hedge. Chip turned to see Belle approaching, and his guilty expression caused her immediate alarm.

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Chip and Adam.

Adam raised his tear-streaked face to his wife. "Belle," he said quietly. His eyes were shimmering, and he looked almost like a scared young boy rather than the royal patriarch he now was.

"They're coming for us, aren't they?" Belle whispered.

Chip's mouth opened involuntarily and he began to babble. "Yes, but...but we can _do_ something! We...Vincent...has some ideas- he wanted to ask you about going to Paris, and you can all take refuge in the Abbey and work in the orphanage, and-"

"Chip, I know you want to help. I understand. It's all right," Belle reassured the young man soothingly. She walked up to him and embraced his tall, lanky form, comforting him just as her husband comforted their children.

They were silent for several moments until Belle spoke again.

"We all need to talk. Everyone, let's go up to the West Wing parlor. I'll have Pippa and Felicity make tea, then we will discuss this rationally."

Her eyes met her husband's as she turned and led the way. The four followed her back to the castle and up the steps. Cogsworth approached just as Belle entered the grand foyer. She gave him a serious and pleading look.

"Cogsworth, please find Lumiere and tell him to meet with Adam, the children and I in the West Wing parlor. He needs to be in a meeting with us. And please have Felicity or Pippa bring up a tea tray."

"Of course, Your Grace," the portly majordomo replied with a bow of his head. He strode to the servants' dining room where he would certainly find his wife and daughter bustling about.

Pippa Cogsworth, who was Chip's cousin as well as the majordomo's wife, was teaching two young servant girls how to sew embroidery on a tablecloth. Felicity Cogsworth was in the nearby kitchen, cooking dinner with old Chef Thierry Bouche and his large crew.

Cogsworth approached the table where his wife sat as she taught. "The Master and Mistress want tea and refreshments for a meeting in the West Wing, dear." His voice was shaking.

"George, darling, what is it? You look nervous." Pippa replied. She glanced at the two little girls. "Gabrielle, you and Claire may go now. Just keep practicing it until tomorrow, all right?" The children nodded and left, white linen tablecloths and sewing kits in their arms.

Cogsworth tried to force a smile in denial. "Nervous? Why, of _course_ not, dear. What is there to possibly-"

"We have a dozen or so apple tarts left from breakfast, pardon me, George dear, just relax, I will get them," Pippa said as she rushed past her husband into the kitchen and reheated two tea kettles.

"Mum? Do you need help with something?" Their daughter Felicity approached them, carrying a bowl filled with sliced raw potatoes.

"The Master needs tea for a meeting, Lissie love," Pippa instructed her. The red-haired girl rushed to set the potatoes down near Antoine, a young cook.

"Can you arrange these in the pan for me? I'll cut up more in just a few minutes. _Merci_," Felicity said quickly to him before locating a cloth-covered plate of apple tarts.

The three Cogsworths worked as a team, efficient as clockwork as always. But there was something troublesome in the air. They all sensed it, but they kept it to themselves while they kept their hands busy with the comfortable routine of palace domesticity.

...

Belle was in anguish. She had tried to stay calm and collected at the start of the meeting, but now she was being forced to make a decision that she was not ready for.

"I can't leave Papa behind!" she exclaimed. "He's getting weaker and sicker, and he...he may be _dying_!"

The words made Adam's face crumple with heartbreak. Twenty-one years before, he had heard his true love uttering nearly the same words in front of a magic mirror. But she was right. There was no way Maurice could travel anywhere in his physical condition.

Adam hung his head in resignation for a long moment, then looked back at his wife. "You insist on staying in the castle with your father."

"I'll be all right," Belle insisted, now crying as much as her daughter had been. "They won't know who I really am. Bounty hunters or not, I'm not leaving here as long as my father is alive."

Chip wanted to open his mouth to argue, but knew it was no use. Maurice couldn't travel, and his ignorance of that detail made him feel disgusted with himself. Charles Potts gazed at everyone sitting around the room- the tearful Belle and Hélene, Adam and Vincent with their heads bowed in worry and sorrow, and even Lumiere, whose face looked old and worn without his usual optimism and humor. Chip had only wanted to help protect the family, but now felt he had made the situation worse.


	6. Adam's Decision

Chapter 6- Adam's Decision

Adam and Belle left the parlor to their master bedroom upstairs, to speak alone with each other.

"Belle," Adam said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I will also stay behind. I refuse to leave you and your father here alone. We'll defend ourselves from these men who wish to harm us. I'll order servants to guard the castle. We have at least thirty able-bodied servant men, including Chip. I'll also order the men of Molyneux to keep guard."

Adam had not employed full-time guards for the castle in over twenty years, because he hadn't faced any real threats until just recently.

"Adam, do you think there are people in the village who could betray us?" Belle asked, concerned. "They could be easily influenced by the revolutionaries and their beliefs."

"I don't know, mon amour. But after all these years, I should hope the people in our province trust us over outsiders and rabble rousers. Don't you agree?"

"Yes...I'm just not certain. I don't want to jump to conclusions in times like this. Adam, what else was Hélene upset about? I heard part of what she had cried out to you. She mentioned the Beast."

"Someone told her about it. I am certain it was Chip. How could he be so foolish as to bring up my past at a time like this?" Adam turned abruptly from Belle, a flash of anger in his eyes.

"Adam, don't be harsh on him. He's still grieving his mother," Belle replied, reaching to touch his hand.

"I'm going to speak with him alone," he insisted. "During the meeting, he seemed to be hiding something. He and the children were discussing something in the garden, and it was more than just the revolutionaries. It was something about the curse."

Adam strode toward their bedroom door, opening it abruptly and stormed out, slamming it loudly in his wake before she could protest.

Belle thought of following him out, but paused. Her eye was drawn to her vanity near the bed. Her rose was still there, in its vase as it had been for twenty years. The rose had never died or decayed.

It had been a gift from Adam on their first Christmas together as a married couple. Adam had acquired it from Fabien. The rose was enchanted just as the one he had when it was cursed, but this enchanted rose was charmed to live 'for eternity' as Fabien had claimed.

Belle walked over to her vanity table and put her finger out to touch the rose in its crystal vase. She felt compelled to say a silent prayer to God to protect her family and keep everyone safe. _Dear God in Heaven, please watch over Adam, the children, myself, and our beautiful families of servants who we love so much. Keep us safe, and keep us together in our times of trial._

When she finished her simple, heartfelt prayer, she was amazed to see a few tiny, glowing red sparks float from the rose's petals.

She left her bedroom, but instead of looking for Adam, she went down the grand staircase, crossed over to the East Wing and knocked on the first door in the hallway.

"Who is it?" Maurice answered.

"It's me, Papa," Belle replied. She opened the door and saw her Papa reclined in his bed, a book in hand. His reading spectacles were on, and despite the chronic pain he felt daily, he was relaxed. Hélene was sitting in the rocking chair beside him.

"Maman! I was hoping you would come see us," she spoke up. She was also much calmer in her grandfather's presence.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Belle asked with a smile.

"Grand-Père was telling me about when he married my grandmother, Hélene. And how he would work so hard to do things for her parents to make them accept him." Hélene told her.

"They never did accept me," Maurice said with a smile. "I was never good enough for them. Even though I built my very first invention for them."

"The ink pen with a tiny pellet ball and an ink well built in," Belle recalled. "And you never did get the patent for it. Someone else may have made one and claimed they had the idea themselves."

"It's all right," Maurice replied. He indicated the book in his lap. "I am almost finished with this. My memoirs." Belle and Hélene had been helping him edit his memoirs for the last year. The final copy, a bound book with the title 'The Diary of Maurice DeFleur' only needed a final chapter. His own hands were too arthritic for him to write on his own, so he spent much time dictating for his daughter and granddaughter to write.

"Someday, Papa, I am going to have copies printed to share with the world," said Belle.

Maurice shook his head. "Why would anyone want to read about the life of someone like me? I never became famous."

Belle hugged her Papa. "Your name and one of your inventions may just become famous someday without you ever knowing it. The Laundry Wheels and Washing Spinners have been built in the palaces of London, from your blueprints. Cogsworth once shared them with another English head of household he met once. And your name is on the patent for those two inventions, not in France, but for the English government. Cogsworth did the paperwork for that as well."

Maurice's face lit up in a wide grin of gratitude. "He did all that for me? Well, I'll be..."

...

Adam found Chip sitting in the servants' dining room with his cousins Pippa and Felicity Cogsworth. "CHIP!" he cried. "Come with me this instant!"

The two ladies gave Chip looks of nervous curiosity as he rose obediently and followed the Master to the door of the royal dining room. Adam yanked the door open to find a young couple already inside. The young man and woman were locked in a passionate embrace, kissing fervently, the man's hands clawing aggressively on the back of the girl's maid's uniform. He was pulling her skirt up higher; her white eyelet petticoats were already exposed.

"GET OUT AND GET BACK TO WORK IMMEDIATELY!" Adam bellowed at them.

"Master!" The fair-haired boy gasped, his face going crimson. The girl, a pretty brunette, was none other than Chandelle, the eighteen-year-old daughter of Francois and Babette Lumiere. She gave a little shriek of fear and embarrassment. She and her boyfriend, the chef's assistant Antoine, awkwardly parted and gave a bow of apology to the Master before rushing out of the room.

Adam shut the door behind them. "Now, then. You have been hiding something from me, Chip. Why were you telling my children about the curse?" he asked him pointedly.

"M-master...I'm afraid the...the Enchantress is back. I spoke with her." Chip tried hard to keep eye contact with the Prince as he finally spit out this information.

"The Enchantress? Where? Why is she back? I thought the sorcerers threw her in prison!" he roared.

"She's been released by them, Master Adam. Now she lives close to the village, in a cottage. She's even got village children coming to see her. She's casting...'good spells.'"

"Good spells? What kinds of 'good spells'?" Adam's voice lowered. He was trying desperately to keep a lid on his boiling temper. For a moment as he looked into Chip's blue eyes, he saw Mrs. Potts' face floating before him in a memory.

"She made grain and wheat for them, helped them after the drought, things like that. I think she's trying to make penance for what she did."

"Penance?" Adam spat out in disgust.

"Yes. And...Fabien was with her, too."

"Fabien? Fabien LaBarre?" Adam's eyes widened. "He was the sorcerer who helped us, helped capture her. He gave me the eternally enchanted rose to give Belle for Christmas that first year. Why on earth would he associate with her now?"

"I guess he sort of...has her on probation," said Chip. "He was making sure she makes good on her promises. But Master, there's more! She showed me things, about you! She wants to protect you from the revolutionaries!"

Chip felt an odd, surreal relief as he finally spoke the words he'd been afraid to say to Adam during their earlier meeting with Belle, Lumiere, and the children. He was uncertain about the Enchantress' motives. He had not mentioned her in the meeting, instead he had fabricated something about knowing of the bounty hunters from his fellow sailors in Paris. Now that Adam knew, Adam could be the one to make the decision of whether he wanted the Enchantress involved or not. It was out of Chip's hands entirely.

The Prince stared at Chip in disbelief. "How?"

"I don't know...A magic spell, I guess?"

Adam continued to yell, enraged. "You foolish boy! You assumed she would do 'good' magic on ME? To help me? And Belle and our children? This is the same woman who didn't care if I lived and died as a monster forever! Or that you would spend eternity with your soul inside of a teacup! Your mother would not have found happiness again with Maurice, either! That woman cared nothing about us! She even tried to trick me, right before our wedding, and if it weren't for Fabien and his quick thinking, I could still have been a Beast once more!"

"I'm...I'm sorry!" Chip spluttered. "She said she wanted to make up for it all. She had a magic mirror that showed the revolutionaries coming on horses to our castle. 'They're coming soon,' she said!"

"Don't believe a word of her charity, she is deceptive. I'm taking action immediately. Belle and I are going to the village today to order the people to fortify and guard the path to our castle. All the manservants must take up their weapons. That includes you, Chip. You will be armed and ready."

...

Less than two hours later, as evening was soon to fall over the land, Adam and Belle, with Chip accompanying, arrived in their royal coach in the town square of Molyneux. A crowd quickly gathered, people abandoning their dinners to hear out their Prince.

Chip disembarked from the coach first, telling the crowd of an urgent announcement from His Highnesses. Adam followed, his lovely wife on his arm. When Belle appeared, a special cheer erupted from the people.

"_Vive la Princesse! Vive notre belle dame!_" they shouted.

Adam looked over the people kindly and began to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen of Molyneux, I have some troubling news. There will soon be some strangers arriving from Paris. They are on the hunt...for me. For my wife-" he put his hand on Belle's shoulder- "and for our children. I do not know if you are aware at all, but there are revolutionaries in our nation, who want to kill our political leaders and nobility. They have already beheaded many people in Paris."

A gasp came over the assembled villagers. "Is it really true?" a woman shouted.

"I read about it in the newspaper!" added a young man. "Why'd they want to do such a thing to our leaders?"

The youngest generations of villagers were literate enough now to read and be informed of events that were happening miles away from their own quaint community of farmland and forest. In previous years, Belle had established better schools and had made certain there were enough teachers and schoolmasters to educate the children of the region. Reading had now become a prized ability in the town of Molyneux. Younger people taught their less literate elders, and in recent years, the village produced a scientist and two doctors.

"It's because not every leader is kind and giving, like our Adam and Belle are," Sophie explained, standing at the side of her husband, Lefou. "They take _care_ of us." She was thinking of the diamond mining that helped the village so much. "But the King and Queen are cruel. They let the people in Paris starve."

Lefou looked at his wife in loving admiration. She had always been a bright woman, who read voraciously when she wasn't cooking and caring for the children. "Gosh, that's awful! How...how can we help, Your Highness?" he asked Adam nervously.

"I would like all men to take up arms and take shifts guarding the road to my castle at all points, starting tonight," declared Adam. "I will get as many of my servants as I can to guard as well. If any of you spot a stranger, be on alert. From now on, I will demand that any person who enters our castle gates be wearing a blue ribbon armband. If anyone does not, they risk being shot by my guards."

The crowd was somber. Adam glanced at Chip, who held a bag filled with bundles of blue ribbon that was usually used to decorate the dining halls for parties, along with a pair of scissors.

"My servant, Monsieur Potts, will distribute a piece of ribbon to all of you. Tie it around your right wrist, as a symbol of your loyalty to us. I ask you this with the utmost respect."

Each man, woman and child eagerly lined up to get a small piece of ribbon from Chip, as he quickly cut and distributed them. The men looked nervous. It seemed to them that their mundane lives of farming, selling, and various trades were going to be set aside for a battle- a war, of sorts.

Chip tried to reassure the people that they would be all right. "Remember, all these years our Prince has helped and provided for you. Now we must return the favor and make sure he and his family are protected," he kept repeating to anyone willing to listen.

When the ribbons were all distributed, Adam told Chip and Belle it was time to go back to the castle and make arrangements for the servants to go on guard duty. The sun was getting low as the royal carriage left the worried citizens of Molyneux. A group of men, including Lefou and his son Henri, gathered in the tavern to plan out their shifts of guarding the path to the castle.

By nighttime, two men with guns and bows were stationed along each quarter mile stretching from the bridge by the tavern all the way to the fork in the road mid-forest. It was the same fork in the road where a man named Maurice had taken a wrong turn with his horse many years ago.

...

That same night, in the little cottage not far from where a pair of townsmen were sitting bored, muskets in their hands, Delphine sat before her magical mirror. It showed the castle, its multitude of windows gently lit in the violet dusk, its chimneys pouring smoke from its many fireplaces. She had been watching, annoyed at Adam's distrust of her. She knew he would take it in his own hands and not rely on magic. The Prince was depending on other mortal folk, with their guns and arrows. Let him try, but the mortal villagers were weak, she thought. Many of the men were lazily falling asleep in their posts along the road, and knew little to nothing about using weapons on other men. She saw a new image of revolutionaries on horses. They were getting closer.

Delphine had decided on a spell. It was a powerful charm, something that would confuse and puzzle all mortals who came near. Her late father had used it himself quite often.

She gazed at the image in her mirror, and began the incantation, her arm carefully pointing her wand out to one side.


	7. Defense

Chapter 7- Defense

Chip had been on guard for hours in front of the tall castle gate, along with a servant named Pierre Charrot. They had both tried to stay awake and warm most of the night, but fell asleep at about four in the morning. Pierre had dozed off first, followed by Chip soon afterward. At nine in the morning, Chip awoke to the bright sun in his eyes. He was cold, wet and hungry. Pierre was still asleep.

A knock on the gate brought Mirielle, Felicity, and Chandelle. They arrived with breakfast baskets of egg croissants and sausages bundled in greasy paper. Chip took two bundles of the delicious smelling food, one for himself and one for Pierre.

"I hope the two of you stayed warm, and that you got some rest," Mirielle said with concern. Chip glanced up at her. The sun shone in her eyes making them appear a golden amber color. Although she was over thirty, her face still looked young as a girl's. Her expression and words were enough to brighten his day. He grinned.

"Thanks, Mirielle. But this is nothing for me. I've had to endure weeks on a cold, wet ship. I can certainly handle it," he replied.

Felicity Cogsworth, despite being nine years younger than Chip, gave him a look of motherly concern as well. "You should quit the Navy, Chip. You could get sick or drown. My father says England may start another war with France before you know it."

"I really don't know what will happen in the next year, Felicity," Chip told her. "To be honest, by a year or two, the Royal Navy may not have a king to serve anymore."

"Hopefully," Mirielle muttered.

"Mirielle!" Felicity cried. "What about the Master and Belle, and Vincent and Hélene? They're after them, too!"

"You know I don't mean _them_!" Mirielle emphasized. "You mustn't think that! I mean the reprehensible..." she looked at Chip sheepishly, then turned to the two girls. "Let's move on. We need to deliver the food to the rest of the men guarding down the road."

"Will we be serving the men from the village, too?" asked Felicity.

"I hope not! Why are you thinking so much of village men, anyway?" Chandelle Lumiere grinned. "My guess, _mon amie_, would be desperation for a man's touch? Which you haven't had from any boy on staff?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Felicity snapped. "Just because _I'm_ not lowering the neckline of my dresses, and sneaking off into empty rooms with every single young man in this castle, doesn't mean I'm desperate!"

"I have a boyfriend. Do you know what that is, _amie_? Something you have never had. Let's go on, I want to give _mon cher_ Antoine a warm breakfast!"

Chandelle walked away, and Felicity followed, a sore look on her face.

"I will talk to you later, Chip," Mirielle assured him. She followed the two girls, anxious to finish the job of delivering breakfast to the men down the path. Chip could still hear the bickering between Felicity and Chandelle as they disappeared into the woods. He hoped that Mirielle might stop and sit with him later, to keep him company. Pierre then awakened, to Chip's relief.

...

The men of Molyneux were eager to protect Their Highnesses. The farmers' and shopkeepers' wives were busy with their husbands' usual tasks, and Gaston's Tavern was temporarily closed. Lefou was standing at the first checkpoint at the edge of town, holding Gaston's old heirloom blunderbuss. He was partnered up with a more experienced guard- Noel Saggitaire, a longtime friend of his and former guard to Prince Adam.

Noel was married to Fifi, one of the blonde triplets who had been in love with the 'late, great' Gaston long ago. Noel and Fifi were very happy, as were Fifi's sisters, Mimi and Gigi. Mimi was married to Noel's brother Luc, and Gigi was married to Jean Goulet, a former castle servant. The three couples had produced ten blonde-haired children all together, including two sets of twins.

Noel's brother (and brother-in-law as well), Luc Saggitaire, was stationed a little beyond the village, the second post to look out for strangers. His partner for guard duty was young Henri-Gaston Lefou, who was inexperienced in such matters, despite being a decent hunter.

Some of the women of Molyneux trekked up the road on foot or carriages, delivering baskets of food to the men like the maids were doing nearer the castle. Among them were the triplets, riding together in Luc's wagon with a few of their children, eager to come for the ride.

Sophie Lefou, with her daughter Sylvie, took the big family beer wagon up through the forest. They were delivering clean water and cider for the thirsty men. They also carried newspapers, which they were to bring all the way to the castle. Each week, the newspapers from Paris would be delivered to the tavern. A castle servant usually picked some up every week for Adam and Belle.

The triplets stopped their wagon when they approached Luc and Henri. Mimi rushed out, carrying baskets for her husband and his young companion.

"Oh, _mon cher,_ you look so cold and tired!" Mimi cooed. She took off Luc's hat, stroked his blonde hair and leaned up for a kiss. Luc embraced his wife tightly, kissing her deeply on the lips. Henri, standing next to them with a musket in his arms, looked embarrassed.

"Papa!" squealed Mimi and Luc's little twin daughters, Camille and Celeste, who jumped from the carriage and ran towards them. "When will you be back home?"

"Very soon, _mes petites filles_," replied Luc, yawning. "We are protecting Princess Belle and her family from strangers."

"Ooh, I hate strangers!" Celeste replied, wrinkling her little nose.

"Should I tell you a story?" Luc suggested.

"Oui, Papa, tell us a story!" The twins sat down near their father. Mimi, her sisters and the little cousins came and gathered near them. Luc and Henri ate their breakfasts, and Luc considered a story. It was an actual true story that he'd heard countless times from one Francois Lumiere, whenever the aging butler had a bit too much wine. Luc reworked it into a short fairy tale.

"There was a man who came to an old, dark and empty...mansion one night. At least he thought it was empty. When he came in, he was surprised to hear voices right near him! But there were no people around. He picked up a candle on a table. And then...the candle talked to him! He said, "Allo!" Luc made a funny face and gestured picking up a candle and being startled. The twins giggled.

"But the Candle and his friend, the Clock, were friendly little objects. They invited the man to sit in their fancy parlor by a warm fireplace. A teapot came in, and she gave him tea. He was going to take a drink...and the teacup laughed!" Luc gestured drinking tea, and made another silly face, which resulted in all the children shaking with laughter. Henri chuckled along as well, and the triplets smiled.

"But do you know what happened next? The man heard a great roar, and turned around to see something huge in the shadows! He heard a voice growling, 'There's a stranger here!' The Candle and the Clock were so scared. And then, there came in the room...a great, monstrous, BEAST!"

He lunged forward, pretending to attack Camille and Celeste with his 'claws.' The children gasped in excitement. "What did the Beast do to the man?" asked Camille.

"What do you think happened next?" her father asked.

"I think the Beast ATE THE MAN UP!" shouted Fifi and Noel's son, Etienne.

"No! That's wrong!" Camille argued. "I think the Beast started being nice and turned into the man's friend!"

_And his son-in-law, too_, Gigi thought to herself, not saying a word as the rest of them laughed and debated Luc's story. Several years before, Gigi had worked as a kitchen maid in the castle. She had learned everything from Belle. Everything, including the fact that Prince Adam was the Beast who had lived in the castle all those years ago.

The only people she could share this secret with were her husband Jean, as well as Luc, Noel, and Sophie. All were former enchanted objects. The five of them spoke of it in hushed tones when no one else was around. Gigi never told her sisters. It would harm Adam and Belle, as well as ruin the memory of Gaston for nearly everyone else in Molyneux.

...

At noon, Sophie and her daughter arrived at the castle gate, where Chip and Pierre stood. The ladies waved, showing the blue ribbon armbands on their sleeves. "Bonjour!" they greeted. Chip unlocked the gate, swung it open with the help of Pierre, and allowed Sophie to drive her Clydesdale-powered wagon through.

As the gate swung shut, Sophie was very confused. Something was terribly wrong. She halted the two huge horses and glanced over at her daughter in worry.

"Maman!" Sylvie cried. "Where's the castle?"

Before them, the road led to an immense field of grass. A few cedar trees remained- but the castle was gone.

"I don't know!" Sophie cried. "We couldn't have gone the wrong way! I lived here for years, I know this road by heart- this has to be the way! How could the castle just disappear? Oh, _mon Dieu_!" She burst into tears of distress; wishing she could turn around and get Chip, so he could bring some normalcy into their current situation.

"What if someone burned it down?" Sylvie pondered. "What if the men hunting for Their Highnesses did this?"

"But honey, there are no ashes or smoke," her mother replied, trying to keep calm for her child's sake. "The grass is fresh. It looks like there was never a castle here at all!" She and her daughter climbed down from the carriage and approached the immense, empty field.

Sylvie ran ahead of her mother, and suddenly tripped and fell. "Ow!" she yelled. "Maman! I feel something! Something hard… like stone steps!" The girl was kneeling on the ground, her hands held out before her. She was touching invisible stone, and it definitely felt like stairs.

"Do you feel the castle? The stairway?" Sophie called out. Her daughter was climbing on her hands and knees, and now appeared to be levitating in midair.

"Yes...it's here! I just can't see it-" She stumbled up the entire flight of invisible stairs, until she felt a wooden door and stood up. "I feel the door! Oh, I can't look down! I'm feeling sick! Should I knock?"

"Let's go back and talk to Chip-" Sophie was feeling faint. Sylvie was now standing twelve feet high in midair. She cast no shadow in the grass below her.

"I'm knocking!" The girl felt for the door knocker and tapped it. In a few moments, the oddest thing appeared from Sophie's viewpoint. Out of nowhere, Lumiere's head and shoulders materialized. She heard his voice welcoming her daughter to come in. Lumiere swiftly disappeared, and Sylvie disappeared from view as well.

The shocked mother ran past her parked wagon and horses back to the castle gate, pounding furiously. Chip and Pierre reopened it.

"Chip, please! Come and look at the castle!" Sophie pleaded. Chip followed her and glanced up at his home.

"What about the castle?"

"You can _see_ it?"

"Of course. Sophie, is there something wrong?" Chip asked her, puzzled. Pierre came over to see what the woman was concerned about. "Madame, do you need any assistance?"

"I can't be going crazy, Chip, because my Sylvie can't see it either! It disappeared! Please don't think I'm crazy, but to me, it's _gone_! The castle is gone and my little girl just disappeared into thin air!" She wiped her cheek. "Monsieur, do you see it?" she asked Pierre.

"Yes, Madame. It's right there, right where it has been for centuries. Our beautiful castle," Pierre reassured her. Chip patted Sophie's shoulder to try to calm her. What on earth is she babbling about? he wondered. Was this a delusion, or was it something supernatural like...

"The Enchantress!" he exclaimed suddenly. Pierre looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Pierre had started working at the castle only seven years before, and knew nothing about the curse or the Enchantress. He had grown up in Metz, the closest major city.

"Don't worry about that, Pierre," Chip assured. "Please shut the gate. Stay at our post for a few minutes, okay?" Chip took Sophie's arm and led her toward the front entrance steps. When they got to the stairs, she began to stumble; he helped her up slowly.

Chip pounded the knocker against the huge double doors, and Lumiere swiftly answered. "Bonjour, Sophie! I suppose you are looking for your daughter?" greeted the maître'd. "The poor thing is shaken up, like she has seen a ghost! What seems to be wrong, _mon_ _amie_?"

"It's _here_! Oh Lumiere, it's so good to see you! Chip, I can see the inside now!" The woman was relieved. One moment she believed she was standing in midair, on steps she could feel but not see. The next, she was taken in by the hospitable Lumiere. Immediately, the vast interior of the castle had appeared to her as if it had been there all along.

"I have to get back to my post. Can you help them, offer a cup of tea?" Chip asked.

"But of course!" replied Lumiere. He and Cogsworth, as well as the more elderly male servants, were still inside the castle. The rest of the men, around thirty of them, were guarding the road.

Chip rushed back toward the gate. As he passed, he saw Sophie's carriage and remembered she had come to drop something off. He found only a bundle of newspapers, and decided to take one for himself and Pierre to read, to pass the time as they sat outside the gate.

"What were you talking about with that lady? Was she all right?" his partner inquired.

"It's nothing...they're okay," Chip said, flustered, as he opened the newspaper to read the front page of the _Parisienne_.

On the page was a woodcarved drawing of the guillotine. A nobleman was bound, being escorted to the platform by two ominous, hooded men. His eyes fell to the paragraph below the illustration.

_On Monday, the Twenty fourth of October, was Executed Prince Jean-Auguste Capet of Normandy, Prince Nicholas-Charles Pelletier of Lyon, Duke Réne-Louis de Meriadác of Nice..._

Chip's stomach lurched. _Duke Réne-Louis de Meriadác of Nice._

Admiral Meriadác! Joséphine's father!

He read down the list. Her name was not there, nor was her mother's. But that did not mean she couldn't be imprisoned, awaiting...

Chip's eyes stung with tears and he lowered his head in his lap, hands pulling at his hair with despair and worry. If only he'd decided not to hold their wedding at Belle and Adam's castle. If only her father had approved the marriage. If only he'd married Joséphine, he could have taken her home, to this castle before his last sea trip. If only.

"What's wrong, Chip?" Pierre asked, looking worried as well.

"I'm sorry, Pierre, I just can't talk about it right now," Chip insisted. He averted his gaze from the man as he sat slumped against the gate, a rifle lying beside him.

...

A coach came into the town of Molyneux from the west side road, driven by a stranger. All of the women and children in the street turned to stare at him. He was a young man, dressed simply in long trousers and a well-worn grey coat and vest with no cravat.

"Bonjour!" the man called out in a friendly manner. The townspeople continued to glare at him. "Who are you, and what is your business here?" a woman scolded in suspicion.

"I'm just traveling, Madame. Have a nice day," the stranger replied, rumbling his coach right past the villagers. The ladies in the street followed the coach in his wake, worried.

"Where's your blue armband?" demanded the blacksmith's wife. But by then, he had ridden to the end of the street, unable to hear her.

The man passed the tavern, church and shops, and approached the other end of the village, close to where Belle and Maurice's former home still stood. It was now happily occupied by Noel and Fifi and their three children.

Noel and Lefou were standing guard by the little bridge over a stream, when Noel and Fifi's oldest son, Emile, came running from the house. "Papa! Elise touched the oven and burned her hand! Please, help!"

Emile was home watching his three-year-old sister alone. His brother Etienne was with his mother on their ride through the forest. "Lefou, keep watch," Noel ordered. He ran to the house, where he heard the child screaming pitifully.

Lefou clutched his blunderbuss firmly after Noel left him. "Gee, I hope Elise's okay," he muttered to himself. Then, his eyes widened as the coach and driver came thundering right towards him. "And I hope Noel gets back!" he fretted.

"_Hey_! Stop your coach, Monsieur!" He started to shout, waving the gun threateningly.

"Get out of the way, you fool!" the driver shouted back in annoyance, refusing to stop. The team of horses did not slow; they threatened to trample the little man down. Lefou clumsily tried to aim the gun, but the horses were approaching much too fast.

Lefou jumped to the side with a frightened yelp as the man sped away, falling on his bottom in the dirt. Soon the driver would get to Luc and Henri. Who knew how many more strangers were riding inside the coach?

Lefou pounded the ground in frustration as he sat in the road_. "Aww, n__ut__s_!" he cursed aloud.

The coach raced on across the farmer's field, until it reached the point where the road meandered through the forest. Luc and Henri had finished breakfast. They stood, weapons in hand. The triplets and their children had gone further into the woods to serve more of the men.

"Who's that?" shouted Henri, alarmed.

"I don't know," Luc replied. "But we will have to check. Your father and my brother let him through so far. Maybe he's not a threat."

The coach and horses thundered in their direction. "Stop! Halt_ immediately_! This road is under guard!" Luc's authoritative voice, and the fact he and Henri were both aiming muskets at him, made the driver slow down.

"Do you have a blue armband?" Luc demanded.

"No, I don't understand," said the stranger.

"If you aren't wearing one, you must turn around and leave! This road is restricted. Go now, or we will shoot you."

"But this is the only route to Prince Adam's castle! I have to get there as soon as _possible_!" he shouted in impatience. He whipped the reins over his four horses' backs, and they sped past Luc and Henri.

"What do we do? Should we shoot?" Henri said in a trembling voice. He didn't want to do this. He had never seen a human being get shot in his entire young life.

"I need to thwart him before he plows through everyone else up there! He could hurt someone! Mimi, her sisters, and the children!" Luc had made his decision. Not only were they to obey Prince Adam against suspected bounty hunters, but his wife, sisters in law, and children were still in the forest.

Luc aimed directly at the man's shoulder and fired.

The driver tumbled to the ground and rolled a few times, screaming in pain. The horses whinnied and bucked at the sound of the gunshot, and the coach rocked to one side, threatening to tip. Inside, he could hear women's voices screaming.

Luc, who had for years been a simple village farmer, never needing to hurt anyone, panted in shock. "We need to aid him! I shot to injure, not to kill. Henri, keep your gun pointed! People are inside the carriage!"

Luc rushed to tend to the injured man. His face was white and contorted in pain, and a spot of blood was spreading on the front of his shirt.

"Why do you want to kill me? Why?" He needed medical help immediately. Luc felt a terrible shock of guilt at the sight of the bleeding, wailing man. He looked no older than twenty-three or four.

Henri heard the screaming inside the coach. Still armed, he ran and opened the carriage door. Inside were two women, one young and very pretty, with long blonde curls, the other much older, both wearing plain, black dresses. They were both shouting angrily and crying.


	8. The Duchesses

Chapter 8- The Duchesses

"You _monsters_! How could you do this? Keep your filthy hands away from us!"

The older of the two ladies began to scream at Henri and Luc the moment Henri opened the carriage door.

"We're sorry, Madame!" Henri tried to explain. "My friend didn't want to shoot your driver, we were only following orders-" The boy's apologies were interrupted as Luc grabbed him sharply by the arm. "Come, help me carry him into the coach, now! We will question them on the way back to town!"

Luc rushed back to the man on the ground, who was still writhing in pain and clutching his bloody shoulder. The two had no choice but to grasp him under his arms and legs and lift him. The man screamed in agony as they carried him to the coach. Luc muttered an awkward "excuse me" as he and Henri tried to carefully lay the man on his back, on the carpeted carriage floor between each lady's feet.

"He needs a _doctor_! Bring us to the castle, there must be someone there!" the older lady demanded.

"We're doing whatever we can, Madame. Keep calm," assured Luc.

"Don't shoot us! You're _murderers_ just like all the rest!" She raged at the man who shot her driver. Luc noticed the younger woman next to her. She remained quiet, though her face was pale and scared. He desperately tried to explain.

"We'll take care of him. He will live! Henri, sit with him and the ladies. I'll drive."

"But what about-?"

"The others are all still on guard." Luc slammed the carriage door and hurried into the driver's seat. He urged the horses to turn around, and began driving back to the village.

"Where are you taking us? I demand an explanation!" The older woman was furious.

The girl tried to reason with her. "Maman, they must know what they are doing. We need to get help for Renaud!" She gazed helplessly down at the injured man, then glanced over at Henri with pleading eyes. "Is there a doctor around?" She seemed less threatened in the presence of this boy, who'd left his gun behind before coming into the coach.

"Yes, Mademoiselle. My friend is taking him to the doctor in town." Henri kneeled over the victim, who was now quiet, taking short breaths. "Monsieur...we're really sorry. We had to do it. Prince Adam's orders!"

The man lifted his head a bit in surprise. "You work for His Highness?" His voice was tight with pain. It appeared that the bullet had gone into his back and right shoulder. His breathing was not irregular, however; his heart and lungs seemed unharmed.

"Well, um, not really," Henri tried to explain. "I work for my father at the tavern, but we're all guarding the Prince. Everybody in Molyneux's trying to help him. Do you know His Highness?"

The man winced as he shook his head no, then flopped his head back down on the carriage floor, unable to speak further.

"Renaud!" The young blonde woman grasped his hand. "Please don't die...please..."

"Is he your husband?" Henri asked her.

"No, he's my-" She gave her mother an unsure look. The mother frowned sternly, as her daughter tried to find the words. "He's our..."

"Friend. He's our good, loyal friend," the mother stated. That seemed to settle the matter for both women.

The coach rumbled back into Molyneux. Luc spotted Noel along the side of the road. "Noel! We have a wounded man here! Come help," he called to his brother. Noel glanced over at Lefou, still standing at their guard post. "Lefou, go find my wife and her sisters. Get your wagon."

"But- Sophie's got the wagon! She's with Sylvie. They went to the castle," Lefou replied.

Noel groaned in frustration. "Use my horse, then. Go find them." He shouldered his musket and went to aid his brother.

The coach had arrived at the doctor's by the time Noel caught up with them. The group of men carried Renaud into Dr. LaFontaine's home office, and laid him on an unoccupied bed. The two ladies rushed to his bedside, while the doctor and his apprentice cut off his bloody shirt and examined his wounds. LaFontaine ordered his apprentice to fetch water, rags and strong alcohol. Renaud's pitiful screams rang out as the alcohol was dabbed on his shoulder wound, and even louder as he was lifted so his back wound could be cleansed.

The older woman gave Luc a look of cold contempt. "You are a murderer!"

"Madame, I had to follow orders," Luc said, defending himself. "His Highness Prince Adam asked all of us men in town to guard his castle against strangers. His family is targeted by bounty hunters. We swore to protect them from the revolutionaries. We know what is going on in Paris. It's terrible!"

The young woman looked at Luc in surprise. "You mean, you are not Jacobin rebels yourselves?"

"No! Of _course_ not! Prince Adam and Princess Belle are the kindest, most benevolent leaders and our dear friends. They have two children. We will defend them with our very lives!" Luc replied indignantly. "I thought your friend was a revolutionary! That's why I shot."

Noel put his hand gently on his agitated brother's shoulder, and began to question the women himself. "Who are you, and who's your companion? Why was he in such a rush to get to the castle? My friend told me he almost ran him down with the horses."

"Should I tell them, Maman?" The girl glanced at her mother, unsure. The mother shook her head, and made the decision to explain herself.

"My name is Catherine, and this- is my daughter, Joséphine. The man you brutally shot is our loyal friend...and servant, Renaud. We were looking for my daughter's friend, who is a servant of His Highness Prince Adam."

Luc and Noel winced over Renaud's pitiful cries of pain. Hearing Catherine's words, they softened their attitude toward her.

"We can help," assured Noel. "We were his servants many years ago. Who is your friend, Mademoiselle? Can you tell us his name?"

"His name is Charles Bouilloire. Quartier-Maître Charles Bouilloure of the King's Navy," Joséphine replied. "We know he can help us, which is why we must get to the castle straight away. Can you take us there, monsieur?"

Luc and Noel looked at each other in confusion. "We've never heard of the name," said Noel. "We don't know a Charles Bouilloure. I'm sorry."

"Whether you know him or not, we are asking you to take us to the castle," Catherine snapped. "I am a widow in my mourning dress. Joséphine has lost her father. Renaud is all we have left, IF he lives! We seek refuge and help. We are on a journey and we cannot stay here in this little town in the middle of _nowhere_!"

Upon hearing the lady raising her voice, young Henri Lefou stepped away from Renaud's bedside and glanced at Catherine and Joséphine. "You're looking for someone?" he asked.

"Charles Bouilloire. He's a Quartier-Maître in the Navy. Do you know him?" Joséphine asked.

"I _think_ I do. I mean, that sounds like Chip! Except his last name's not 'Bouilloire.' It's 'Potts.' But, Potts is the English word for 'bouilloires,' tea kettles. So that must be him!" Henri exclaimed. His Maman, Sophie, was raised among the British castle servants. She had taught him and his younger siblings many words in English.

"_Merci_! Thank you so much, dear _garçon_!" Joséphine's face lit up with hope. "You gentlemen must take us to him. He was my fiancé, two years ago. But we did not marry." An uneasy look crossed her pretty face.

"But you cannot marry him now, _ma petite_. You are engaged to Alain. You must tell Charles that, it may break his heart again."

Catherine, also known as Her Ladyship the Duchess de Meriadác of Nice, looked at her daughter sternly. Joséphine stepped close to her mother and spoke to her in a whisper.

"I know. I love Alain very much. I want him to be safe, too. He has to stay in Spain until...we can make it through to Austria, to Uncle Frederick's palace. Once we are all out of France, we can be together again, and we will marry."

Joséphine hoped that Chip would somehow understand. She worried that once she saw him again, her heart would be torn between the sailor and her new love, Duke Alain Armand de Rouen, who was now out of the country in exile. She and her mother could not overstay their welcome in the castle as it was.

Perhaps, they could convince Their Highnesses to travel across the border with them before winter set in.

Luc excused himself from the Duchesses and went to Renaud's bed. The servant was suffering through the doctor's probing of his bullet wound.

"Monsieur," he said solemnly, "as soon as I can, I will go to the livestock market and sell both my Percheron stallions. That'll get you three hundred livres for your trouble. Well...two-fifty after I pay the doc."

Renaud smiled at him weakly.

...

Back in the castle, an argument was ensuing between Prince Adam and his son.

"What am I supposed to do for the next few days? Or _weeks_?" Vincent scowled. "Sit here and do nothing while everybody else stands guard to protect us? Even the maids get to go out and help. This is stupid!"

"Enough, Vincent!" Adam said through his clenched teeth. "If you're looking for something to do, watch over your sister. And if you really want to be useful, help out Chef Bouche. Most of the cooks are in the woods."

"I can't cook!"

"Then LEARN!" he yelled.

Belle and Hélene entered the sitting room, hearing the quarreling. They had spent most of the morning in Maurice's room.

"Adam, Vincent, what is this about?" Belle asked in concern.

"Maman, why can't I go out and be a guard with the servants and villagers?" asked Vincent. "It's not like the rebels will recognize me if they come. And if Hélene dresses like a maid, they won't know she's a Princess either! Why do we have to stay here?"

Vincent gave Hélene a pleading look, as he wanted her to get out of the castle with him.

"Because we are staying together. We are a family and we will not be separated! If they come, I cannot bear for one of us to go missing. End of discussion!" Adam shouted.

"Vincent." Belle approached her son and looked up into his blue eyes. She could not get over how she had to look up at him now, when for years he had been her sweet, little boy.

"There are many things you and Hélene can do here to make yourselves practical and useful. Let the servants and villagers do their jobs. Your time will come, sweetheart. We don't know what's happening yet. And Adam, please don't shout. It makes my headaches feel worse," she added with a sigh.

The decades Belle spent reading her tiny-print books had caused her eye strain, and she had chronic headaches nearly every morning. A few cups of hot tea usually made them fade.

"Belle, I didn't mean to shout again, _mon ange._ This is a difficult time for me," Adam said quietly.

Lumiere popped his head in the doorway. "Your Graces? Children? Would you like me to get you anything?"

"Hélene and I will come to the kitchen ourselves to get tea and visit with the maids. Thank you, Lumiere," Belle replied.

"Ah, _oui_. We had some visitors from the village. Sophie and one of her girls. They talked with Pippa and Felicity and I, and they are leaving right now. They were acting very...strange."

"Why?" Belle asked, worried. Perhaps some Jacobin rebels had already entered the village? Had they stopped in the tavern and tried to recruit the townsmen into their murderous deeds?

"They said that the castle was...invisible. I do not understand. It was as if they were under a delusion, or a spell!" Lumiere was still baffled by the conversation he'd just heard.

Vincent looked at Hélene, his mouth widening. Hélene gave him a similar look of disbelief.

"Maman, Papa, excuse us. We're going to do some servants' chores right now," Vincent said quickly. He shot a look at Hélene, urging her to follow him. Once they were out of their parents' sight, they ran across the great hall to the main front door. Two villagers were on their way out; one a plump, fortyish blonde woman wearing a bonnet, and the other a small, slightly plump girl around Hélene's age, with brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Bonjour!" Princess Hélene called to them.

Sophie and Sylvie turned around and gave them a respectful bow and curtsy. "Your Highnesses," they said together.

"May we walk with you outside?" Hélene asked them graciously. The two ladies smiled, pleased. The royal children were always so kind and polite. Sylvie was beginning to blush at the sight of Prince Vincent; she began nervously smoothing her hair.

"We're so sorry that we didn't greet your parents, but we have to get back to our work," Sophie said apologetically. She reached for the door, pulled it open and looked at her daughter in dread. Sylvie also looked quite frightened. The ladies stepped very carefully onto the front steps, and Vincent and Hélene watched, intrigued, as they slowly and clumsily tried to tiptoe down, grasping each other's arms.

Vincent stepped forward to help them, but was suddenly stopped. He had just felt the sensation of bumping his head into an ice-cold stone wall when he tried to walk out the door.

"Oww!" he shouted.

He reached out his hand, curiously. Invisible, cold stone.

"What's wrong?" Hélene bounded out the doorway, and she, too, collided against an unseen, cold hard wall. "I can't go outside!"

"Neither can I!" Vincent grunted in frustration, pounding with his fist.

"She's doing it," Hélene whispered. "It's supposed to keep us safe. But I wish she'd come and explain!"

...

A few miles away, the Enchantress sat in her cottage, watching the castle happenings through her Magic Mirror. She was in the company of Fabien LaBarre, who watched her spellwork carefully, making certain that nothing done was dark or harmful.

"Delphine, this is well done so far. When Prince Adam sees the effects of the charms, you must go there and speak with him," he told her.


	9. Invaders

Chapter 9- Invaders

"Isn't this going _overboard_?" Vincent complained. He pounded his fist at the invisible barrier once more, bruising his knuckles badly.

"The castle must be invisible to outsiders, Vincent," Hélene explained. "If the revolutionaries come, they could still see us out in the garden. The Enchantress wants it to look like we aren't here at all, so they'll think they went the wrong way. If only I'd borrowed a maid's clothes I could've gone out. You're right, this _isn't_ fair."

The siblings happened to spot Lumiere walking along the balcony of the grand staircase a floor above them. Vincent called up to him.

"Lumiere?"

"_Oui_, children?"

"I don't want to bother you, but could you or someone else step outside and see how Chip and the other men are doing? If they're hungry, or thirsty again?"

"I certainly will! I was just hoping for a chance to stretch my legs...Babette!"

His wife emerged from a room with her feather duster. "Yes, _mon cher_?"

"Let us venture outside, _chérie_, and give the boys more water and refreshments. No invaders are coming yet, and besides- you shall be very safe with me," he added, embracing her around the waist and kissing her neck.

Babette stroked his cheek. "Mmmm, you always make me feel safe, _mon amour._" The couple, now in their fifties yet still fit and sprightly, kissed on the stairway landing, and descended the stairs together, going into the kitchen. Babette emerged with a basket of baguettes, and Lumiere with a crate filled with glass bottles of clean water.

The two teenagers held their breaths as the _maître d' _and his wife headed to the threshold. They exited the still-open doors without hesitation. Hélene stepped forward and tried to follow them out, but bumped into the same icy barricade.

"The staff can go out, and we can't," she pouted. "What about Maman and Papa? Should we tell them?"

"No! Let them find out about the magic spells on their own," replied Vincent.

"But Papa will get angry! What if he thinks we met up with the Enchantress and told her to put these spells on us? We didn't ask her to do this!" Hélene argued.

"Papa will get angry no matter _what_ we say." Vincent scowled. In the casual clothes he was wearing - a baggy, white shirt devoid of ruffles, and black trousers - he may have passed as a servant or villager if it weren't for the fact he was the spitting image of his father. Deciding it best to keep quiet about the spell, the siblings headed upstairs to the East Wing and hoped to avoid their parents.

...

In the West Wing, Adam and Belle sat in their study. Adam was reading last month's newspaper, with its ink portrait of Robespierre on the front page. He tossed it back on the table, his shoulders slumped.

Belle took the paper and scanned the news about the events happening in Paris; the fates of the other nobles, the riots. She was also looking for news of her orphanage on the Seine. "I haven't been there since last spring, Adam, and now I'm afraid I'll never see them again," she blurted to him distressfully.

"You mustn't even _think _about going back!" he snapped. "None of us are leaving this castle. Our men will fight. I have faith in them."

"Our funding to the orphanage is gone now. The King and Queen...they never think of the people! All of those children are hungry and could lose their home, and there's nothing I can do about it! And these enemies could be coming soon, and our friends are risking their lives for us..."

Belle, unable to finish her sentence, buried her face in her hands and wept silently. She had to be strong for the children and the many families of servants. Her husband was the only one she could break down in front of.

Moments passed. Adam stroked her soft hair, shushing her and feeling hopeless. As he closed his tired eyes, a voice from the past - Mrs. Potts' - came to his mind's ear. '_Let go of it, love. Allow Providence to do His will.'_

"Belle, my love...we can pray for them and for us. Remember what Mrs. Potts used to say? 'Sometimes we must let go, and let Providence do His will.'"

Belle gave him a tiny nod, and raised her reddened eyes to his. "You're right. I'm going out to the balcony to watch the birds and get some air."

She walked into their bedroom connected to the study, toward the elegant French doors that led outside. The master bedroom's balcony had a magnificent view of the mountains and tall evergreens on the west side of the castle. It had become Belle's favorite spot to read and look upon the changing seasons. She used to rock and nurse her infant children there on warm days past. After Vincent had turned a year old and learned to run and play, she and Adam ordered the servants to build tall wooden fences over the old balcony so he couldn't climb over and fall. Only a few years earlier, the servants took the safety fences down and the scenic view was unobscured again.

Adam followed her to the doors and pulled them open for her. Belle stopped abruptly.

"This is strange. _Feel_ this, Adam!"

He reached where her hand was held out, and felt cold, hard stone. Or perhaps ice. It was invisible. They could see out the door to the blue sky, but they could not cross it.

"What is this?" He tried to walk out the doors, only to bang his nose painfully, as though he'd crashed into a hard windowpane. He groaned as he felt a warm liquid trickle from his nose. Belle rushed to get a handkerchief, lovingly dabbing away the blood. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Her husband embraced her tightly.

"Why is the world going insane on us?" he cried in anguish.

...

Lumiere and Babette sauntered outdoors into the crisp sun of late autumn. Chip and Pierre were happy to see them; as they served the water, Pierre began coughing severely. The young men of the castle had now spent two damp nights and nearly three days outdoors.

"Pierre, you are terribly sick, _mon ami_. Let me take your place. You go inside and the ladies will fix you some hot tea. And you _must_ go to bed!" Lumiere demanded.

"Oh, no, I'm fine! We did great last night, didn't we, Chip? We had a nice campfire-" Pierre insisted, before dissolving into a fit of coughs mixed with wheezes.

Chip looked at his friend in concern. "Pierre, you need a break. You've been coughing like this all night! Lumiere, are you sure?"

"I must!" the _maître'd_ declared. "My father was a soldier," he added as he took Pierre's musket in hand. Babette looked at her husband worryingly. She served him and Chip some water and cookies, then walked with a grateful Pierre back to the castle. "I will find one of the ladies willing to go with me to deliver the rest," she told Lumiere before she left.

Chip squinted at the older man. "Lumiere, how do you explain this? Every villager who's come by says the castle turned invisible. What do you think?"

Lumiere glanced back at the alabaster-hued walls and tall spires of his home behind him. "I want to say the villagers have had too much to drink, or have all gone to lunacy- but, you said _every_ villager? Who else has said this?"

"Well, first it was Sophie and her daughter. Then it was Sophie's husband, Monsieur Lefou. He runs the pub in town."

Lumiere sniffled derisively. "He and I go a long way back." Lumiere couldn't get over his long dislike for the jolly barman who had tried to be his friend for the last twenty years. Whenever the _maître'd_'s colleagues dragged him into the tavern in Molyneux for a drink, the proprietor's innocuous, gap-toothed grin made Lumiere recall a hot torch searing his wax candle face. "Who else?" he asked.

"Gigi and her sisters, the blonde triplet ladies. A bunch of their little kids, the baker's two sons, and a big man with a beard named Dick. They kept running to us from down the road and asking us where the castle has gone!"

"I don't have any explanations, Chip. I am just as confused as you are," Lumiere concluded.

"Could it be a...spell, or enchantment?" Chip asked, knowing of course that it was, but hoping Lumiere would also clue in.

"It wouldn't be out of the question." Lumiere shrugged his shoulders, and began to fiddle with the musket he was holding. "I've never handled one of these before, I might need a bit of a lesson," he told Chip with an embarrassed laugh.

...

Delphine sat at the table in her cottage, gazing into her magic mirror. She had seen the reactions of people from the village, those who didn't know the castle as their home. Her charm of invisibility was in full effect.

Fabien was with her; he had come to witness her spell. "The best thing would have been to speak to the Prince before doing this," he insisted. "You need to go to him now."

"The last thing he needs is to see _me_ at his front door," she argued.

"I will come with you. Let us go, Delphine. If you are so nervous about approaching him, let _me_ go to his door first, and you follow me." Fabien motioned Delphine to follow him outdoors. They stepped out into the early-evening dimness of the cool forest. "There are men nearby, the villagers guarding the road. I don't want to give them any trouble, let's go invisible ourselves."

Fabien waved his wand over his own body, vanishing. Delphine disappeared from the mortals' sight as well, and they walked silently past the two red-haired Desjardins brothers from the village, who were sitting half-asleep at a guard post. The sorcerer and sorceress walked unseen and unheard by mortals due to a silencing spell, through a narrow forest trail.

"Are you certain that you trust me now?" Delphine asked after a long period of silence.

"That is up to you." Fabien replied in what Delphine thought was self-important wisdom, which rather annoyed her. Yet, she chastened herself for feeling disdainful when she remembered something she had learned about the enchanter's personal life. She couldn't stop herself from telling him.

"While I was in prison, I...met some terrible dark Enchanters. I met...followers of Gerhard von Hexum."

She could hear him gasp. She _knew_ that name would infuriate the old man. In a low, comforting voice, she continued.

"I know what von Hexum did to your son. I'm terribly, terribly sorry." Her voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. She could hear his footsteps slowing.

"It wasn't your fault. Bastien died a hero," Fabien whispered back, now walking by her side.

"That curse...is painless. I heard those horrible men and women talking of it. It kills in a fraction of a second." She touched his shoulder. "I despise what they do. What my father believed in."

_"Merci," _replied Fabien. He sometimes tried to imagine that Bastien was still away, on his missions, still hunting down the evil elements of the enchanted society. He still couldn't imagine his brave, valiant son struck down dead in the middle of the Black Forest of Germany, at the wandtip of a sorcerer who had been an ally of Delphine's late father, Quentin Dufresne.

...

At last, Delphine and Fabien reached the clearing. The castle gate was still in view and guarded by two servants.

"That young fair-haired man is the one who visited me a week ago. The older one, I remember I turned him into a candlestick," Delphine whispered to Fabien behind him. Fabien changed into his wolf form. He slowly crept up to Chip and Lumiere.

"Fabien?" Chip jumped as he saw the silver creature coming toward him.

Lumiere quickly pointed his gun. "A wild wolf! Be careful- they are vicious!" he cried. But before he could shoot, a blue mist surrounded the wolf, changing Fabien into his human form.

"_Sacrebleu_!" he exclaimed, looking to Chip for an explanation. Chip looked at him in reassurance.

"He's all right, I know him."

"We have to speak to Their Highnesses, Chip." Fabien said calmly to the men. Behind him, the Lady in Green lifted her invisibility spell and appeared before them. Lumiere gasped.

"You! It's..." he sputtered angrily.

"I mean no harm, Monsieur. I am the one who cast the Invisiblility Charm upon your castle. The castle is only seen by those who know it as their true home. Their physical home, and their home in their _hearts_. That is why it is seen to _you_, but not the people of the village."

"Why are you _here_?" exclaimed Lumiere, his brow wrinkling in deep furrows.

"A long story. I was in prison, I was released, and now I volunteer my powers to keep the revolutionaries from harming Their Highnesses." Delphine replied.

The shocked Lumiere turned to glance at her companion. "Now I remember you!" he exclaimed, regarding Fabien. "Silly me, I am getting old, and losing my memory. Monsieur...LaBarre, no? You were here at the time of the royal wedding. You had two sons who were always by your side. But where are they now?"

Fabien's aged face crumpled in pain and grief. Delphine looked upon him in empathy. "I don't feel this is the time to talk about it," she said quietly, glancing back at Lumiere and Chip.

Fabien replied to the two mortals in a hoarse voice. "In fact, Monsieur, my son Benoit is doing well. He is working near Paris, trying to aid the orphans and poor, although he cannot conjure prepared food. It just can't be done. But he and his wife are causing fresh clean water to flow." He smiled sadly.

Lumiere knew not to press further about the other son, whose name he honestly couldn't remember after twenty years. A thundering crescendo sound brought him away from his thoughts. It was coming from the village road.

"Who's that?" an alarmed Chip shrieked. It was the hoofbeats of horses, a good many of them. Men screamed and shouted deep within the forest.

"The invaders!" Lumiere exclaimed. He and Chip raised their guns and kept their eyes fixed on the bend of the road in the distance. Not a moment later, a man came riding around the corner on a galloping horse, then another, and another.

Delphine and Fabien looked at each other in agreement, and turned their magic wands to Chip and Lumiere, who immediately turned invisible.

A parade of six horses and a coach raced directly toward Chip and Lumiere, and it looked as if they would mow them down. Chip shrieked and backed up until he collided against the gate and began to stumble. His heart hammered as he aimed his gun up at the man in the lead.

He fired at the man's chest; the rider dropped to the ground. The horses bucked and stumbled, whinnying shrilly.

Frightened, Chip and Lumiere scrambled to the far edge of the iron castle gate. They watched as one man dismounted his horse and looked past the gate, squinting up to the sky. He took off his hat and stood motionless, staring. Some of the other riders dismounted, tending to the injured man and taking him to the coach. Chip's stomach lurched as he saw a trail of bright scarlet blood in the grass as the men dragged away the man he'd just shot.

"We've gone the wrong way!" the man looking up to the sky yelled. "Jourdain, give me the map!"

His colleague reached into a satchel and pulled out several rolls of paper. He quickly rushed to the man whom Chip guessed was the leader, and clumsily offered him the maps. The first man snatched one, dropped the rest, and unrolled it while the others crowded around him.

"Where are we, sir?" the fellow named Jourdain asked his leader.

"This is supposed to be the _exact_ location of the grand chateau of Prince Adam of Alsace and Lorraine! But it is not _here_! There must be some mistake," the tall revolutionary exclaimed, letting out a few colorful oaths as he rolled up the map. The sight would have been comical to Chip and Lumiere, if they weren't so scared and if not for the fact that Chip may have killed someone for the first time in his life.

"What was up with those _voices_? I saw no men on the road, sir! Who shot Tomas?" the man named Jourdain asked. Other men expressed fear; shouting out theories of "ghosts" and "demon spirits."

"Gentlemen, let's go back into the town we passed and ask the locals some questions. They know the area, they must have some information on the whereabouts of their own Prince!" the leader announced. Soon, the parade of horsemen and coach turned and left the gateway of the invisible castle, leaving Chip and Lumiere alone, and much relieved. They each looked down at themselves and realized they were still invisible. But in a matter of a few seconds, their bodies both appeared again.

Delphine and Fabien appeared in front of them as though they'd been there the entire time.

"Did you do that? Turn us invisible?" Chip asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes, I did. It is as simple to me as snapping one's fingers," Delphine replied.

...

The four of them ran to the castle and up the steps to the door. Delphine was unable to see the castle due to her own spell, and neither was Fabien, but the two enchanters used a levitation charm to get to the castle door without injury. Lumiere knocked, and Cogsworth answered.

"Good heavens! I heard a gunshot...are they here? Are you all right?" the majordomo cried.

"We need to see Their Highnesses right away, Cogsworth...we have some visitors!" Lumiere gestured to Fabien and Delphine. Cogsworth narrowed his eyes in scrutiny at the strangers- then clapped a pudgy hand to his mouth, shaking his head.

"I am not seeing this...no! This can't be...you have lost your _mind_, Lumiere! Don't you remember this dreadful woman? Are you _daft_?"

"I can explain later, Cogsworth! The mademoiselle has come to use her magic! To _help_!" Lumiere cried in protest, gesturing toward Delphine.

"You careless, irresponsible, wax-headed _fool!" _Cogsworth's round face turned a deep shade of maroon. He looked about ready to punch his lifelong best friend.

"_Enough, gentlemen!_"

All looked up to see Adam glancing over the rail of the banister, and he was furious. He fixed his eyes on Delphine and ran swiftly down the stairs. Belle appeared on the balcony as well, but she looked worried instead of angry. She assumed that the two people who had arrived were some of the dreaded revolutionaries. But as she got a better look at them, memories of twenty years earlier returned to her.

"_What are you doing in our castle_?" Adam yelled. He raised his face up to the staircase above. "Vincent! Hélene! Come down here at _once_!"

Belle walked down and quietly regarded the two visitors, giving Fabien a friendly nod of recognition, and an uneasy look at Delphine.

After a few moments, the children appeared at the top of the staircase. They came down to stand by their mother; trying to imitate Chip's innocent expression, but unable to hide their guilt.

...

_A.N.- Because I like crossovers, the character 'Gerhard von Hexum' is the great grand-nephew of Queen Grimhilde from 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.' Also, I once wrote a short Harry Potter crossover story where the Enchantress was distantly related to a HP character and was a graduate of a certain Potterverse magical school. (Not Hogwarts). Virtual chocolates to whoever can guess which HP character she was related to and the school she went to! :)_


	10. The Villagers' Ruse

Chapter 10- The Villagers' Ruse

"Your Highnesses, Prince Adam and Princess Belle," Fabien began, "please forgive Mademoiselle Dufresne's actions and sudden appearance here. She is under my supervision. She has cast protective spells on this castle to protect you from the revolutionaries. So far, they have succeeded."

Delphine stood silently at his side and nodded.

"So that's what's going on," Adam said grimly. "Who has given you permission?"

"No one, Your Highness," said Delphine quietly. "I decided to do it myself. You need all the protection you can get from the people who wish to harm you. I just wanted to use my power to help. You have children. Don't you want them to be safe?" She glanced over at Vincent and Hélene.

"Why can't we leave the castle?" Hélene asked the Enchantress.

"Child, you have to trust me. I will lift the spell when the danger has passed."

Hélene turned to Adam. "Papa, I'm sorry! We met her over a week ago. She used magic to tell us what was happening in Paris and told us about the...when you were a boy," she said guiltily.

"She has just prevented an invasion, Master," Chip interjected. "The castle is invisible to outsiders."

"Invisible?" Adam glared at Delphine. "There were _invaders_?" He looked back and forth between Delphine, Fabien, Lumiere, and Chip, seeking their confirmation. The four nodded.

"A band of revolutionaries, I'm certain, Your Grace," Lumiere concurred. "They turned away and left; as there was no castle to be seen."

Adam and Belle glanced at each other, trying to ascertain what had happened, and if they could trust Delphine. Should they allow this woman, who had taken years away from Adam and the servants' lives, to intervene once more?

"Please come to the parlor, Mademoiselle, and Monsieur," Belle suggested after a long pause. "Let's all talk about this."

...

That same night, in the village, a group of twelve men burst into Gaston's Tavern, tired, weary, and demanding answers.

The leader, a tall, imposing man named Jean Marchand, looked around for assistance. His eagle eyes focused on the assistant bartender, nineteen-year-old Henri-Gaston Lefou. "Tell me where I can find the chateau of Prince Adam!" he bellowed at him.

"The chateau of Prince Adam?" Henri looked at Jean with a bit of bewilderment.

"Yes. It is a very short ride from your village, is it not?" Marchand pressed.

"That's the Prince who rules over our region, right?" Henri asked in feigned ignorance.

"You don't know who your own Prince is?" The man was seething with impatience. He looked around at his comrades, who had taken seats at the tables around the bar.

Lefou quickly approached his son, carrying the two empty tankards he had been cleaning. "Oh! I know! His name's Adam Vincente Christophe, and he's married to Princess Belle-"

"But where is his CASTLE?" Marchand hollered. His deputy, Jourdain, approached the bartenders with rolls of maps. He unfurled one and laid it out on the bar counter.

"Messieurs, we need your assistance. Look at this!"

Lefou and his taller son looked down at the map. Marchand plopped his index finger on the little dot labeled 'Molyneux.' He moved his finger a tiny bit to the side, to a little crown symbol close to the dot.

"It's right there! Just a little to the south, on the mountain range. That's where the castle has always been, correct?"

Lefou glanced over at his son worriedly. The boy shook his head, just a tiny bit, but enough for his father to get the message: no. Henri was always such a smart boy. Book smart, like Sophie, but street smart, too.

"Um, no...sorry, Monsieur, but there's no castle nearby. You sure you're in the right town?" Lefou asked the man.

"Maybe the map maker made a mistake!" Henri suggested. "Maybe the Prince's castle isn't near Molyneux. Maybe it's near a town called Jolyneux."

"Or Rolyneux!" Lefou added, nodding enthusiastically.

"Who made that map? It looks ancient, Monsieur. All yellow, and wrinkly. Why do you want to know where the Prince's castle is, anyway?" Henri inquired.

"We are in the midst of a _revolution_, you fools!" Marchand bellowed. "The King and Queen of France will soon be dead! Scepter and crown shall tumble down, and liberty will come to the people! You will no longer be subject to tyranny, poverty and starvation!"

"What tyranny? Nobody's oppressing us," Henri said calmly.

"Nobody's starving in this town, heh-heh," concurred Lefou with a nervous chuckle. "Are ya hungry? We're out of cinnamon rolls tonight, but-"

"How?" demanded Marchand. "How can this backwoods little village be prospering? You all have bakeries and shops full of delicacies, fine fabric for clothes, an abundance of food, while the rest of France- except for those selfish nobles- suffer and starve in the streets!"

Marchand looked around the tavern, full of animal taxidermy, enormous ale kegs, chess and dart boards. It was a tavern of happy, comfortable citizens. This village wasn't suffering one bit.

"We're self-sustaining," Henri told them. "Game hunting and farming has supported this town for a long time. We had a drought this spring and summer...but we got tons of rain starting September!" He gave Marchand a disarming smile.

The boy couldn't explain why life was good in Molyneux, and the nearby towns in the region, while there was so much poverty in other parts of France. It was just the way it always was. They'd never paid taxes to Prince Adam because he never asked it of them. In fact, every Christmas Day, he and Princess Belle left five hundred livres in the church basket to be shared among the villagers.

Of course, there _was_ the matter of the diamond mining going on in the mountain behind Adam's castle...but that was a well kept secret between Adam and Belle, and the villagers.

Marchand looked at Jourdain and took off his hat, wiping a tired and sweaty brow. He turned to Lefou.

"Someone shot one of my men, out in the wooded trail. We don't know who it was and wish to stay in your town to investigate. We have to bunk for the night. Are there rooms vacant in the inn? Your sign said there are two boarding rooms upstairs."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Monsieur, but the rooms are taken. Ladies are sleeping up there, so shh...we have to talk quieter-"

"Is there anywhere else in town we can stay?" Marchand interrupted Lefou abruptly. "Our fallen man has been taken to the doctor, and there are twelve of us who need shelter tonight."

"We can ask around, couldn't we, Papa?" Henri asked. "Do you think Maman would mind if a few of them could stay at our house?"

"I guess. Wouldn't hurt to ask. And we can ask Noel and Luc, and Jean, and our cousins," his papa agreed.

...

Upstairs, in the second floor bedroom above Gaston's Tavern, the Duchesses Catherine and Joséphine lay in a rustic, patchwork quilted bed.

"Did you hear that, _ma petite?_ Someone downstairs just said 'revolution,' and something about killing the King and Queen! This is dreadful, so dreadful!" Catherine fretted. "What if they already captured Prince Adam and his family, and are taking them away?"

Joséphine rose from the bed and looked out the window, at the many horses hitched near the tavern. "We can go tomorrow. Renaud is up and walking around. He's well enough to drive the carriage, I hope."

"We don't know if the people here are sympathetic to the rebels or not. Now I'm certain we can't trust anyone, Joséphine."

"Let's just keep doing what we are doing and act as commoners. Renaud will get us to the castle tomorrow, for certain, Maman. Please, let's try to sleep." The young woman settled back in bed next to her mother, and put a comforting hand on hers.

"I cannot sleep in this dirty filth!" Catherine said with a sob. She closed her eyes, the better to not see the shadows of animals cast along the walls from the dusty old hunting trophies.

...

Another urgent case disturbed the town's doctor, Dr. LaFontaine, late that night. Two strangers burst into his sickroom carrying a third man, who was dripping blood from his stomach. The man made no sound and appeared to be unconscious.

The strangers laid him down on a bed next to the one still occupied by the previous shooting victim, Renaud. He awoke, and uttered a few oaths at the chaos that interrupted his peaceful sleep.

The elderly doctor and his apprentice wiped the patient's wounds with clean cloths, and found that the bleeding had stopped. Dr. LaFontaine held his candle at the man's face. He had a pale, bluish tint to his skin.

He held a mirror under his nose. There was no fogging up of moisture on the glass.

"Are we too late, Doc? Is it bad?" asked one of the men in an exhausted voice.

"Messieurs," the doctor announced sadly, "I am terribly sorry. There is nothing I can do to treat this man. He is with God now."

"We don't know who did this! The shots came out of nowhere!" the same man raged.

"Someone must have been threatened by all of you," Dr. LaFontaine said sympathetically, making certain that anything regarding Prince Adam, or defense of a castle, was not to be mentioned. "Where was this poor gentleman from?"

"He was from Paris, as I am." the other revolutionary's voice, a softer tone, explained. "I want to just take him home-"

"Only until Marchand gives orders to go back," the first man interrupted firmly.

"But we..." The second sighed in resignation and sniffled, not able to hide the grief of losing his comrade.

"I'm so sorry, son. I can make some arrangements for him in the morning. What was his name?"

"Tomas. Edouard Tomas, he was twenty-two," replied the firmer male voice.

Renaud, meanwhile, shut his eyes tightly and wished for the conversation to end, and the lot of them to just leave. Finally, he opened an eye and watched the two revolutionaries cover the man's face with a coat and carry him back outside. He shifted so he was in a more comfortable position with his sore shoulder, then settled his head back down on the pillow and drifted off.

...

The next morning, Renaud got up out of the bed, his shoulder still painful and his right arm immobile. He went to the tavern and knocked. No one answered, as tavernkeeper Lefou had gone with his friends to check up on the invisible castle. Renaud pounded on the door with his left hand. "Mistress Catherine! Mistress Joséphine!" he yelled.

"Monsieur...hello?" a woman's voice said behind him. He turned around to see Sophie Lefou and her youngest son, Jean. "The mistresses are at the café having breakfast. Would you like me to take you to them?"

"Yes- merci, Madame. I would like that." The young man flashed her a charming grin. She smiled back, pleased to see the much-talked-about patient at the doctor's house up and about.

"Aren't you the man who was...shot? Shouldn't you still be in bed resting?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, Madame. I just need to speak to the ladies." Renaud insisted.

"Well, alright then. Come with us," Sophie said cheerfully.

Little Jean stared up at the man in awe. "Gee, Monsieur, I'm so glad you didn't die!" he remarked.

"Jean, that's not polite. Think of M. Luc," Sophie admonished her son in a whisper.

She knew that their friend Luc Saggitaire was still burdened with regret for shooting down the innocent coachman. Now he had no horses for the winter, due to his promise to compensate Renaud for his recklessness. The shooting of the stranger had been the talk of the village- at least before the events of yesterday.

There were some very odd things going on, the invisible castle being the main event, and the shared feeling of the men last night that they, too, turned invisible as they tried to fight against the invaders.

The villagers were not aware of the most recent shooting, at the castle gate. The revolutionaries had brought their fallen man in late at night.

Earlier that morning, the townspeople met in the church and decided that they would all deny the existence of a castle near Molyneux. It had been Henri's idea. Sophie and Lefou had beamed with pride at the leadership and brilliancy of their son. The boy was absolutely certain it was the right move. Incidentally, the Lefous as well as the two Saggitaire families happened to be hosting some surprise overnight visitors. The families had given the revolutionaries a place to sleep, but spoke to them as little as possible.

Sophie and Jean showed Renaud to the town café. When he opened the door and stepped inside, Joséphine's face glowed with happiness. She got up from her table, where she'd been eating quiche with her mother, and ran up to embrace him.

"Renaud! You're well again!" Renaud patted her shoulder politely while Joséphine hugged him tightly around the waist. "Now we can go. After you have something to eat," she told him.

Madame Gigi Goulet, the new owner of the Café Molyneux, brought him a plate heaped with her own recipe of quiche and croissants. "Here you go! Piping hot!" she said to him as he graciously sat down.

"Lovely service by such a beautiful woman!" Renaud remarked to Gigi with a wink.

The forty-year-old blonde woman giggled girlishly, and went back to her work with a sashay of her hips. As she passed by her friend Sophie, Gigi leaned down toward her and whispered in her ear. "I may be married but I'm not dead!"

"I was thinking the same thing," Sophie said, laughing. The injured man was the handsomest fellow the townswomen had seen in a good while. If it weren't for his good looks, he probably wouldn't have created the talk and rumors among the women of Molyneux. They all wanted to know his real identity. Many of the women opined that he was a Prince in disguise, coming to see Adam, his believed relative, to help him escape.

"Now, Renaud, we must be getting to the castle as soon as possible. How long will the journey take?" Duchess Catherine asked at the dining table. Renaud shrugged his strong left shoulder.

"Less than an hour, Maman. Don't you remember from back when Chip and I..." Joséphine said with a sigh, remembering her pathetic non-wedding two years before. "The castle is less than an hour away from the village. It is all uphill, so it is tough on the horses."

Catherine looked at Renaud pointedly. "Before you arrived here, did check that the horses were fed and watered?"

"No, I suppose I forgot," Renaud admitted. As he clumsily wolfed down his breakfast with his good hand, he noticed the chubby boy who had come in with his mother. The child was staring at them, listening to their conversation. His eyes were wide as saucers, and his lower lip was quivering as if there was something he desperately wanted to tell them.

"Son, do you want something?" Renaud asked the boy.

"Um, no." Jean shook his head swiftly, and ran into the kitchen where his mother was talking with Gigi. He poked her in the back. "Maman!"

"Oww! What, honey?" Sophie said in exasperation as she looked at him.

"There's a problem!"

"What problem, sweetie?" Sophie sighed. Jean's 'problems' tended to be trivial, and occurred a few dozen times a day. It usually involved tattling on his older siblings, but the other three children were busy. Sylvie and Aimee were helping cook for Marchand and Jourdain- much to the girls' displeasure- and Henri and Lefou were going to the castle, to see if it was still vanished.

"Those people are going to the castle, they said! But they won't SEE it!" Jean exclaimed.

Sophie looked at Gigi and gasped. "Oh, no! What should we say?" She looked back to see the three customers finishing up. Joséphine was helping Renaud stand, and it appeared he couldn't use his right arm. "I think he's going to take their coach and drive it up himself."

"They're for _sure _not the people who want to hurt Prince Adam and Princess Belle, right, Maman?" Jean asked.

"No, honey, they're not. The girl is Chip's friend," Sophie assured, stroking her son's messy brown hair lovingly. The small boy looked relieved.

"And you_ know _what I said might be true about Mr. Dreamy over there," Gigi said with an admiring smile, stealing a glance at Renaud.

"How will they make it to the castle to see Chip and the royal family, if they can't see it?" asked Jean.

Gigi nodded in agreement. "They need a guide, someone to drive for them and help them to find their way in when they get there. And they won't even believe it exists, just like those men who came to town!"

"I wish one of the servants who could actually _see_ it was in town," said Sophie. "We need a guide who's gotten inside before. Where are your sisters this morning, Gigi?"

"At home, probably, with their kids," replied Gigi. Mimi and Fifi were in the same conundrum as Sophie was, cooking for and hosting the strangers who invaded Molyneux. Gigi was spared the chore because she was a working mother, running the café. Her husband, Jean-Claude, was checking over the road to the castle, as were her sisters' husbands, Luc and Noel. Lefou and Sophie's two daughters were watching over Gigi and Jean-Claude's two children, Gerard and Genevieve.

"I have to get back home and help my girls." Sophie said. She would have offered to drive and guide the threesome herself, but Sylvie and Aimee, who were fifteen and thirteen, were burdened with so many chores back at her house. She worried that the aggressive revolutionary men would still be asking about the whereabouts of the royal family. Sophie and her friends the triplets hoped they might have already left.

...

Renaud shrugged off the constant questions about his health that Joséphine kept asking.

"I said I'm_ fine_! I can drive you to the castle!" he said in irritation. Joséphine looked up at him, hurt at his harsh response.

"Renaud, how dare you speak rudely to Her Highness! Do not forget your place!" Duchess Catherine scolded. "You would have never spoken that way in the presence of her _father_!"

Renaud looked straight ahead as he walked up the street to locate the Duchesses' coach. He clenched his jaw tightly, not saying a word back to Her Highness.

The coach was parked behind the tavern, where it had been kept by the Lefou family, who had been caring for the horses while Renaud was recovering. A large livery stable was at the rear of the tavern building. Renaud walked inside and saw his team of horses drinking from a water bucket; someone had already fed and watered them. He and the Duchesses stood in the stable together, watching as the horses finished drinking. They needed to be ready for their journey ahead.

A group of men came in behind them. They walked past to their own horses, also being held in the livery stable. One of them was speaking loudly as he strode past.

"Mark my words, Jourdain. The Princes, the Dukes, the Counts and the King and Queen themselves- all will be dead within the next few years! Or perhaps sooner!" Marchand proclaimed. "You and I will stay to question them about Tomas' death. Dubois- you and the rest take Tomas' body back home. We will meet in Paris soon, and get to the bottom of this misunderstanding. Godspeed to you, and_ Liberté!" _He threw his right fist into the air.

_"Liberté!_" the other men shouted back to him, their fists raised high.

Duchess Catherine put her hand to her mouth in anguish. Her daughter grasped her arm.

"Conceal your emotions, Maman." Joséphine whispered to her. "We must keep a low profile, remember?"

Renaud casually walked over to Marchand and Jourdain and gave them a friendly smile in greeting, while Catherine cringed, trying to keep her terror in check.

He exchanged a few pleasant words with them. Noticing his injury, the two men offered to help him with hitching the horses to the carriage.

"Looks like a right fancy carriage for people like you- did you steal it from one of the dead tyrants?" Marchand asked Renaud pointedly.

Renaud laughed. "I most certainly did. To the victor come the spoils!"

The remark caused Marchand and Jourdain to guffaw as well, and they raised their fists to him in the revolutionary salute. Renaud raised his fist in return.

A short while later, Renaud had the horses secured to the stagecoach, and Catherine and Joséphine gratefully climbed inside.


	11. New Visitors

Chapter 11- New Visitors

Inside the hidden castle, Adam crossed his arms in impatience as he slumped in his favorite chair in the parlor, his wife and children at each side. Delphine and Fabien continued to explain their great magical capabilities, and how they were both invested in the protection of Their Highnesses, sitting rod-straight as if interviewing for a job at the castle.

In a way, they were, but Adam's long mistrust of the Enchantress was her barrier she needed to break. Chip, a witness to the magic now being used as a diplomat of sorts, sat adjacent from both groups.

"We have saved you already from a group of rebels! Your servant Chip was _valiant_ in taking down one of them tonight," Delphine pointed out to Adam.

Belle looked in concern at Chip. "You killed one of the rebels?"

"I shot him, Belle...I don't know if he died or not, I didn't stay around to see..." he said awkwardly.

He wasn't cut out to be a sailor or soldier after all, he chided himself. He had spent _years_ training on the sea for future wars, being promoted, thinking he could use his thirst for adventure to 'fight enemies' someday. But the idea of 'fighting' was nothing but a child's fantasy. When it came to killing-_ real_ killing- he felt like a coward.

Chip Potts had a strange and sheltered childhood, to be sure. After his teacup curse was lifted at the age of seven, he spent a lot of time alone in fantasy play. He'd played with Mirielle at first, who at the time was the only other child in the castle, but she was four years older and soon outgrew childish things. He became obsessed with battle and war and glory, probably a result of that one exciting night he spent 'playing soldier' to the village mob. He had stood by Mama atop a cupboard, pouring scalding enchanted tea over a bumbling group of men, cheering when they ran away, scared.

It was exhilarating for the child, and he was convinced he was going to grow up to be a soldier or a sailor. Chip's favorite stories were the epic war tales that Cogsworth was so fond of reading to him. When he went outside in the castle grounds, alone- he could be anywhere his imagination took him. He shot imaginary arrows at the Huns as a great Chinese warrior, and he became an ancient Gallic defender against the Romans.

But it wasn't REAL.

"Would you like to confirm whether or not you killed the man, Chip? I can summon my Magic Mirror if you wish," Delphine spoke to him loudly, pulling him out of his musings.

"I- I...um, maybe..."

"I see no NEED for this!" interjected Adam loudly. "I don't care to see ANY more of your hocus-pocus show! I had enough of it for TEN YEARS of my life!" he shouted.

Belle instinctively put her hand out and touched his knee gently. "Adam, I know you're angry. But maybe it would help Chip, to know something about what he did." She looked at the young man kindly. "Do you want her to summon her Mirror?"

He shook his head, looking down at his boots. "No. I'll probably find out myself from the villagers."

He'd rather have the news of his killer status broken to him from a gushy Sophie, who'd likely hug him and tell him what a hero he was for killing that rebel in defense of the castle. It would be much preferable to Delphine wielding her mysterious spy-glass with its moving pictures; who knows what could show up in it. The thought made him shudder.

Delphine looked disappointed. "Very well, then. I would just like to ask you this, Your Highnesses. Do you want me to lift the Invisibility Spell and just leave you alone? Or do you want me to keep it? It's already proven to have helped."

Belle took her hand from her husband's knee and winced, knowing what his answer would be. But she herself preferred the idea of being in hiding. This revolution was coming too close for comfort. People Adam had known and remembered from his childhood were now executed, and she was terrified he was next on the list.

"I would personally prefer to keep the spell," Belle announced pointedly. "Whatever can be done to keep our children safe, and my _father_ safe- no matter what, I'd rather it stay."

"All right," sighed Adam, putting his arm protectively around her, "we keep the castle invisible. But I want the barrier lifted! We don't want to be caged inside this castle...like animals!" He searched Belle's eyes for agreement, and she nodded at him.

"I would want that too," Belle concurred firmly.

"Then it's done," said Delphine. She took her wand from her pocket and swished it in an arc above her head, whispering incantations softly. Vincent looked over at the window he was planning to break open, and saw an odd rippling through the glass, like the heat waves over a fire. He glanced at his sister and parents. None of them seemed to notice it.

...

Vincent and Hélene were the first to 'try out' the lifting of the barrier spell by running outside that night. It was late, and getting cold and dark, so they had to suspend their adventures and go to bed; but the next day, they were out bright and early, walking about the castle grounds. Late autumn had set in; and most of the leaf-bearing trees had gone bare. Tiny snowflakes flitted about, as Helene noted cheerfully. It seemed today as if things might be getting back to normal. The Enchantress would protect them, and they had promised their father they would stay within the castle grounds.

"Vincent, it's the first snow of the year! Make a wish and catch a snowflake on your tongue!" Hélene called to her brother.

"That's childish," Vincent said, rolling his eyes. "All right, here goes- I wish that every stupid rebel who wants to murder my family drop dead as a stone and rot in hell! Oh great Enchantress, our noble _savior,_ let it be done!" He raised his hands, and stuck out his tongue in exaggeration.

"Vincent, stop it." Hélene chided, not amused. "But wait- you might have a point! Maybe if you ask her in person, she _can_ do that!" she added.

Her brother recoiled. "That's just sick, Hélene. They can't use magic to make people drop dead-" his slight sneer faded from his face- "wait, _can_ they?"

A rustling of the garden's dormant rosebushes caused the siblings to startle. The Enchantress Delphine and Enchanter Fabien materialized and approached them, both with stern looks on their faces.

"How long have you been spying on us?" Vincent asked, his mouth dry. He was unused to people just popping out of nowhere.

"I see...mortals as well as Enchanted folk have the same human nature," Delphine said to them in a schoolmarm's tone. "We are more alike on the inside than we think. I learned that lesson long ago. I know the answer to the question you're pondering, young Prince."

"And so...what's the answer?" Vincent asked quietly, fidgeting with his shirt collar.

"_All_ enchanters can. With training, our wand, and an incantation. BUT-" she emphasized- "it's the vilest of spells, and is forbidden in our world. Meeting people who had done it was part of what made me turn away from the dark side." She looked over at Fabien in sympathy. "Monsieur LaBarre's son was murdered by that spell."

Fabien nodded solemnly. "It is true."

Hélene felt ashamed for even thinking of such magic against enemies. "I'm sorry Monsieur...for your loss. We were just wondering. We want everything done to protect our family, that's all."

"Child, it's only human to want to protect, and even want to kill to protect. War happens in both the Enchanted society and the mortal one," Delphine assured the girl.

"We promise we will do everything we can, with defensive spells, and spells of deception, such as the one we have in place. Please don't be troubled," Fabien said with a smile. "Enjoy your walk in the gardens. Stay warm." He winked, and both Helene and Vincent felt warmer all of a sudden, as if an extra, magic layer of clothing was put on them.

"Thank you," they both said gratefully, and the two Enchanted people disappeared from view.

...

The two siblings walked outdoors, enjoying the crisp air as they stayed warm, until they heard carriage wheels and horses in the distance.

"Oh, no!" Hélene said in trepidation.

"Stop worrying so much, Hélene!" Vincent said, exasperated. "It's just _one_ carriage. Someone from the village as usual, probably. Don't you remember that nobody can see our castle unless it's their _home_? And the villagers are the only ones who learned the Enchantress' trick?"

The girl sighed in relief. "That's right. Just the villagers with a delivery. Silly me. Let's go inside though."

"_You_ can. I want to go see who it is. If it's one of our village friends, they need to be guided to the front door. Just like leading the blind."

"But Vincent! What if it _is_ revolutionaries?"

He shrugged his sister off, and removed the blue velvet cloak he was wearing and tossed it behind some rose bushes. He ripped at his white shirt, then bent over and touched the moist ground beneath a rosebush, spreading the dirt on his shirt and arms.

Vincent then messed up his hair a little. He looked down at his feet, considering his fine English riding boots. He decided to kick them off and go barefoot.

"What are you doing?" Hélene asked him with a bewildered look.

"I don't look all that princely now, do I, Hélene? Go back inside. I'll go see to them!"

The carriage wheels grew closer as Vincent made sure his younger sister was safely inside, then skipped awkwardly barefoot over rocks to the castle gate. He decided to swing it open, and casually walk down the path, towards the visitor.

It turned out to be a very grand stagecoach; shiny black trimmed in gilded designs. The horses' tack and reins were, to Vincent's knowing eyes, nothing the Molyneux farmers or merchants could afford. It reminded him of the coaches he had seen during the very few trips to Versailles he had taken.

"Bonjour!" Vincent called in a friendly tone toward the driver, a handsome young man with a haughty air. He was holding the reins in his left hand only, his right arm and shoulder wrapped in a tourniquet. He glanced at Vincent for a second, then up at the sky where the castle was, looking irritated and confused. A woman poked her head out from the window.

"Renaud!" she scolded the driver. "Did you do this on purpose? You lied and took us the wrong way! Can't I ever trust _anyone_ for the rest of my life? I should have known not to tr-"

"Mother, _listen_!" A second woman's pleading voice cut the first's tirade. "This _was_ the way there! I was here before, and I remember the village! It w_as_ called Molyneux and it looked the same as I remember! The same mountain, same road, the same gate..."

The carriage door flew open and a blonde girl jumped out, rearranging the skirts of her black dress. She gazed up at the castle in absolute shock, and her eyes fixed on Vincent.

Vincent stood there foolishly, not able to quite figure out where exactly he'd seen her before. He remembered the pretty face- he registered her as friend, not foe- but he could no longer place her.

"Mademoiselle? Can I assist-" he blurted out.

Joséphine's face lit up in hope and relief. "_You_! You're...Prince Adam's son!" she exclaimed.

"Oh?" It was all Vincent could utter. He was shocked at the immediate identification. This wasn't exactly what he'd imagined a moment before. Meanwhile, the young man in the driver's seat was looking at him- and his dirty and ripped clothes and bare feet- in disbelief.

"I was going to have my wedding here...two years ago," she said softly. Vincent jogged his memory to his fifteenth year.

_Wedding. Here. Her. Blonde Girl. Bride. Pretty._

_CHIP!_

"Oh! You were Chip's..." He trailed off and changed the subject. "I'm terribly sorry, I'm not all that good at remembering faces!"

"It's all right," she said. "I'm so glad to see you but-" she looked all around- "what happened to the castle?" Dread came over her face as she took a closer look at the teenaged Prince's disheveled appearance.

"_Mon Dieu_! Did they burn it to the ground? Adam and Belle! Your sister! Chip-"

"Chip's here, in fact, and my parents and sister are inside-"

"Inside _where_?"

Vincent gestured back to his home. "Inside the...oh." He forgot about that again.

Duchess Catherine shouted from her seat inside the coach. "Young man! Please give us directions to the castle of Prince Adam, there's been a mistake."

"There's no mistake, Madame. The castle is here. It's just, well, rather hard to find. Private. Very secluded." Vincent smiled, blushing a little at the three people looking at him with scrutiny, one of them being a very lovely girl of nobility. He muttered under his teeth to himself.

_Why can't she break the spell for just one minute? I'm looking like a damn fool! _


	12. We've All Gone Insane

Chapter 12- We've All Gone Insane

"Prince Vincent, I don't understand," said Joséphine. "Secluded? Your castle was twice the size of my father's chateau. How could I forget how tall it was? I see nothing." She looked to the sky, to the gate, and to the patch of bare land beyond that gate.

"Just follow me, okay?" Vincent said in exasperation. "Monsieur, Madame, can you follow us?"

"Joséphine, I will trust you know more than I do, as you are aware, I was unable to come to that cancelled wedding of yours due to my illness," Catherine was saying as Renaud opened her carriage door and she clambered out, holding his good arm. A breeze caught the black veil she wore, making it whip around and nearly fly off, and she held it as she walked stiffly with Renaud's support.

The three followed Prince Vincent across the flattened land. "What on earth?" Joséphine exclaimed.

A man had materialized about twelve feet above the ground, levitating in mid-air. Joséphine squinted her eyes, and as she came closer, her lips parted in surprised recognition.

"Chip?"

Chip scowled in the sunlight, looking down at one the black-clad female figures calling his name.

"Yes, Mademoiselle? May I help you?" He descended down the castle steps. "You need to tell me the purpose of your visit. It has become-" His eyes widened.

"Chip! It's me!"

"Joséphine?" His walk slowed, and he had to do a little double-take. "You're alive!"

"And you were floating in midair!" she shouted back. "What is happening?"

"I know! Things are crazy in the world these days, Joséphine. But I've seen crazier, believe me," He gave her an awkward grin.

Joséphine smiled warmly and approached him, giving him a chaste, appreciative hug. It was the hug she would give to a brother.

He backed from her a moment, studying her face, searching her eyes. He began to take her hands in his, but she pulled them down, stepping a few paces backward.

"We need your help. My father is dead."

"I know what happened, I read it in the paper. You can come and live with us as long as you want! You and...your mother-" he gestured to Catherine standing behind her- "can live with us in the castle. We can be together again."

A guilty and saddened look came over the young Duchess. "Thank you. We only need to stay here a short time, but then we must travel on to Austria, to my uncle's."

"But I'm certain that...Their Highnesses Adam and Belle would let you stay as long as you want," he said almost pleadingly.

His heart sang out with love for her, wanting to take her under his wing. In his mind, he pushed away her words. He hoped to find a way to keep her there as long as he could, to win her heart toward his again.

Joséphine looked as if she were to say something, but seemed to change her mind, and the subject.

"Can I ask you a question, Chip?"

"Joséphine, of course you can!" he said, his voice going up an octave.

"Where is the castle?" she insisted.

"Exactly!" Catherine concurred. "How long must we stand around in this wilderness?"

Vincent had been patiently waiting as he stood nearby. "Just follow behind Chip and I, we can show you."

They walked together, the women silent while Renaud muttered curses under his breath. The moment the two hosts walked up the castle steps, the rest gawked at them, astounded.

"Have you all gone insane?" Renaud shouted in frustration.

"Yes we have, good Monsieur," Vincent said, as he turned in midair to face him. Noticing Joséphine's stumble as her foot collided with the steps, he went back down to guide her, and Chip did the same with her mother Catherine. Renaud stumbled behind them, his frustration turning to awe.

...

The guests were flabbergasted when they were guided inside.

"It's beautiful, Chip! Just as I remember!" said Joséphine. Her mother was not as happy; in fact, she seemed a bit miffed. Her late husband, Réne, had often said this palace ought to have been in his family line.

Adam and Belle were soon greeting the three, and they all gathered in the parlor, with tea served by Cogsworth's daughter Felicity.

Renaud gazed warmly up at Felicity as she served him. "Mademoiselle, your hair is the color of smoldering embers! Your spirit must be just as fiery and beautiful as you are," he told her.

Felicity's hand shook the teapot and she blushed furiously. "Thank you," the shy girl whispered. When she left the parlor and went back into the kitchen, her heart was soaring in ecstasy.

"This is our hope, Your Graces," Duchess Catherine was saying to Belle and Adam. "We only hope to stay a short while, and must get on our way across the border before winter sets in. We hope to get back to Austria. Prince Frederick is my brother, you see."

"I understand," said Belle. "It will be good to get back home to your family again. If I was in your situation, it would be what I'd want. I can't imagine the pain you've both been through."

At this, Catherine's eyes welled with tears. "Réne was a good leader, a proud man, and we had some...good loving years together, long ago. He didn't _deserve_ to be slaughtered this way!" She collapsed in loud, choking sobs. Joséphine rushed to her mother, crying quietly into her shoulder.

Adam, Belle, Chip and the children sat silently. There was nothing they could do, or say, to comfort this family. Joséphine and Catherine had been amazed at the magic spell the castle was under, certainly, but they hadn't asked a single question about it, no insistence as to why. Their horror and grief of what had transpired for them back in Paris outweighed even the shock of an enchanted secret castle.

Belle could relate to them in a way. As that young girl of nineteen, so long ago, the fright of her father imprisoned had taken precedence over the fact that a gigantic, horned Beast was holding him and terrorizing them both.

Perhaps _their_ story could also end on happier terms, someday.

...

Some time later that afternoon, Joséphine approached Chip and gave him an uncomfortable look. Her green eyes were bloodshot with tears of grief over her father, yet conveyed an inner strength that tore at Chip's heart.

"Chip, can you come walk in the hallway alone with me? We need to talk."

"Okay," he said. His heart was pounding, anxious to do whatever he could to get back the girl he'd lost.

When the two were alone, standing beneath an alabaster statue of a winged cherub, she looked at him with compassion.

"Chip, I will always care about you, but it can't be like it was before. You are my friend-" Chip's blue eyes glistened with the news- "but _only_ my friend. I'm engaged to marry another now."

Chip swallowed, gulped. "I understand."

He turned and walked away, and as soon as he was out of her sight, his walk turned to a run, and he raced out the side servants' door of the castle. He ran through the gardens until he reached the most hallowed spot, his mother's gravestone.

He sat there for a long, long time until the shadows grew dim, skipping dinner and wanting nothing but to be that young boy again, brave and imaginative and full of romantic hopes and dreams for the future. Mama had been so proud that day, when he was about to marry a sweet, lovely girl above his station in life. But Chip was also proud of his Mama, so much that he'd stood up for her in front of Josephine's prejudiced father.

He wouldn't have changed that day one bit.


	13. The Secret in Danger

Chapter 13- The Secret in Danger

For the next few weeks, life in the hidden, enchanted castle was safe and serene. Chip was still hurting over Joséphine's news of her engagement. She didn't even tell him her betrothed's name, but once when she and her mother were having tea with Belle in the parlor, Chip heard the name 'Alain' mentioned by Catherine as he passed the hallway. It was like a knife through the chest.

He tried to avoid the girl as much as he could, to let his feelings for her go. Luckily, Joséphine, Catherine and their servant, Renaud, were staying in the West Wing where they spent their time with Belle and Adam. They were getting along very well, it seemed. Adam and Belle were happy to have the company, and the chance to give hospitality, asylum and protection to the grieving widow and daughter. Soon, Chip's feelings for the Duchess faded to a warm friendship. He still continued to visit and talk with Mirielle often...and to his astonishment, his feelings of romance and longing began to shift- from Joséphine toward his longtime childhood friend.

To find relief from his conflicting 'woman troubles,' Chip busied himself in the role of informant and advisor to the rest of the castle servants, and often went to Molyneux to talk to the villagers. Adam wanted him to listen, and hear about how they felt about Adam and Belle- whether or not any revolutionaries were trying to turn them against their beloved Prince and Princess. He learned that the villagers were trying hard to get the small group of revolutionaries out of their hair. Marchand and Jourdain and a few of their men were still staying in the village, looking for information.

...

The young maid, Chandelle Lumiere, was in Molyneux one crisp November afternoon, buying vegetables from the triplets' family farms and bakery goods from Andre and Marie. Her beau, Antoine the assistant chef, had just bought some good-quality chickens and hams from the butcher's shop, then they both stopped at the tavern to see if there was any ale to spare. Lefou told them his supply was low, as the revolutionaries staying in the inn above the tavern were very fond of his drinks. After chatting with Lefou and his son Henri for a few minutes, Chandelle and Antoine got ready to load the supply wagon and go back to the castle. It was Belle's birthday the next day, and the servants wanted to have a special dinner and quiet celebration for her.

As they were passing the fountain, a large man in his forties approached the two, seeing their arms full of bounty.

"Bonjour!" the man said heartily. He wore a badge on his coat; it was banded in red, white and blue. "What have you here, are you selling these wonderful things? I'd love to buy."

"Oh, monsieur, they aren't for sale. We just bought these ourselves," said Chandelle. "We're planning a feast for Princess Belle's birthday."

"Princess Belle?" the man repeated with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Yes, Prince Adam's Belle."

Antoine's mouth opened in shock; he wanted to tug on Chandelle's arm or do _something_ to pull her away from the man, but his arms were full of hams and chickens. He tried to catch her eye, but she paid him no attention.

"Where are you headed now, mademoiselle?"

"To the castle."

Antoine rolled his eyes. How could Chandelle be so naïve- so _stupid_? This was one of the revolutionaries!

"All right then, wish Princess Belle a happy birthday," Jean Marchand said with an eager grin.

"_Oui_, I will! Have a good day, Monsieur!" Chandelle said cheerfully.

As soon as they were out of the man's sight and went to the wagon, Antoine rounded on the girl angrily.

"Chandelle! What have you _done _Do you know how _stupid_ you are?"

"What do you mean, _mon chere_? I was just talking to the nice man!"

...

Chip, Hélene and Vincent were taking a walk through the forest when the castle's supply wagon thundered back down the path toward them. Antoine halted the horses abruptly when he neared them.

"Your Graces! You _must_ go back home! They are following us! GO BACK!" Antoine yelled.

"What...what do you mean?" Hélene said, trembling.

Chandelle was sobbing. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I said something to that man- I didn't know!"

"Just be QUIET!" Antoine snapped at Chandelle, whose face crumpled in regret.

"Your Graces, please climb in the back of the wagon!" Antoine urged the threesome. Chip, Vincent and Hélene climbed quickly in the back of the supply wagon and Antoine sent the horses into a full gallop. The three of them held onto the rough sides of the wagon, being jostled along with several bundles of hams and chickens and baskets of vegetables. The food bounced along as the carriage bump-thumped up the hillside, and Vincent grabbed hold of a large ham that had almost spilled out the back, hugging it to his chest.

"My favorite dinner..." he said, as Chip laughed nervously. He could count on Vincent to be thinking only of his stomach at a time like this.

"Antoine- what exactly happened?" Chip asked as he crawled over some scattered potatoes and squash to the driver's seat in front.

"It's Chandelle's fault!" Antoine said bitterly. "She TOLD a man she was buying food for Princess Belle's birthday feast, as we were driving out of the village! That man kept asking questions, and she told him it was for _Prince Adam's_ Belle, whose birthday is tomorrow! She said we were going to the castle! So now he knows there's a castle! And he was wearing one of those Tricolour badges, that the revolutionaries wear! He's following us now!"

Poor Chandelle was hunched over her seat, looking ill as she wiped her face with her apron.

"Oh, no..." Chip groaned. "Okay, keep driving, Antoine. Everybody be quiet, I need to think."

As the wagon reached the summit of the hillside and neared the castle, Chip's brain went into overdrive. He thought and thought.

Chip decided he had to get the Enchantress to help somehow. He had to get her to scare away those revolutionaries again, just as she had when she cast the invisiblity spell over him and Lumiere and the rest of the castle's defenders, the night they rode to the gate.

...

Antoine drove the wagon to the castle grounds, and Chip finally spoke to him and Chandelle.

"Antoine, I have an idea. Don't deliver this food inside the castle. Instead, park the wagon here, gather some firewood and stones and make a fire pit. Cook some of the food outside, like you are camping out or something. Get out some drinks, and when the revolutionaries come, invite them to eat and drink with you. Vincent and Helene, you two get in the castle and don't come out! Chandelle, I think you better go inside too."

"But I want to help...this was my fault." Chandelle said in despair.

"Why can't I camp out with Antoine? Maybe I can help, too!" argued Vincent.

Chip studied Vincent and Hélene for a moment. They were wearing commoner's clothing, and looked in every way to be a couple of young village folk, as did Antoine and Chandelle.

"All right. Just start a fire and get some of this food cooking. Be friendly to the revolutionaries and-" Chip put both hands to his temples to think a minute.

"I'll tell you what to say," he finally said abruptly. "I'll explain it only once, and then I need to borrow a horse to run and get someone. A friend. If I can get her, this_ might_ work. Just be calm and friendly to those men, okay? Here's what to say until I get back-" Chip began to whisper a plan to Antoine, Chandelle and the royal children in hushed tones.

Within five minutes, Chip had borrowed his favorite palace horse and was riding in full gallop on an alternative route to the village. He rode past the town limits of Molyneux and into the thick forest to his destination- the tiny cottage with a rose carved in the door.

Delphine answered the frantic knocking.

"Madame...please...we need your help..." Chip panted.

"It's _Mademoiselle_! And yes, I will help. Take my hand, Chip, and we will travel to where you want to go...by magic."

Chip grasped Delphine's hand.

"The castle gate..."

He and Delphine vanished from the cottage in the blink of an eye, and reappeared back with Vincent, Hélene, and Antoine near the castle.

...

Belle and Adam were upstairs in the castle's West Wing parlor, visiting with Catherine and Joséphine. The Duchesses, as always, were accompanied by their servant Renaud, who catered to Catherine's every whim, fetching snacks and tea for her and her daughter as dutifully as he would have done in their old palace home.

Belle happened to glance out the window, and she spotted a column of smoke. "Adam, come look at this. The children are building a campfire by the front gate."

Adam joined her to look outside. "They can't stay out too long, they need to get inside for dinner in an hour! And they need to be helping the servants for your birthday celebration tomorrow!"

"Adam," Belle put a hand on her husband's back- "we have plenty of help and I'm perfectly happy with just a small birthday party. It doesn't need to be a big celebration this year, because of...what's happened. Let's just let them be for a while."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "What are they doing? They and the servants are cooking the foods for tomorrow's dinner! And where's Chip? I don't like the look of this, the enemies could be coming back, they're being careless! And they're making smoke that can be seen from the village- it isn't safe!" He drew away from the window and strode out the parlor.

As he raced down to the castle's foyer, Adam found Cogsworth and Lumiere standing at the bottom of the staircase. Lumiere was comforting his daughter, Chandelle, who looked exhausted and scared. As soon as she saw Adam, her face paled.

"Your Grace! There's been some trouble with the revolutionaries! Please stay inside the castle, and don't let anyone else out! I'm going back out to help Chip...and Vincent and Hélene!" Breathless, the girl tore herself away from her father and ran out to the front door.

"What? If there's danger, they need to come inside!" Adam raged. He started to run after her, but Lumiere grasped his arm.

"Master, do not worry! Your children have things under control. Please calm down," he consoled.

"Sire, would you care for us to bring you and the guests some more tea?" Cogsworth asked, huffing to catch up with the two.

"All right," Adam said with a sigh. "But what if..."

_"Trust_ them, Master. Trust Vincent and Hélene. They know what they are doing. Let them be," Lumiere insisted.

When Lumiere saw that Adam had gone back upstairs, he turned to Cogsworth. "Cogsworth, we need a bit of fresh air. Come, let's change into some old tattered clothes."

"I do not _own_ any old tattered clothes-" Cogsworth began to say.

"Neither do I,_ mon ami_," said Lumiere, "but we must borrow some quickly. Chip needs some help, and you know that I am an expert at flattery and charm. And the more the merrier, no?"

...

Jean Marchand and Pierre Jourdain rode their horses swiftly up the mountainside together. "I know there's something odd about that place, Jourdain. There was something that girl was worried about, she said something she regretted. She told me point-blank that she was going to a_ castle_ to celebrate a Princess' birthday! And she mentioned the name of Prince Adam! He's got to be here, and we will find him!" Marchand was raving loudly as he rode in the lead.

"But...but Marchand, we saw that night that there's no castle there. Either the map was wrong, or the castle was destroyed a long time ago," said Jourdain. "We need to look somewhere else for that Prince. Has it been proven he's still alive? The men in Paris said something about a Prince who'd been 'lost' in this area once."

"He's alive, and he was_ found_, you idiot. I have read up on all the recent records of a prince named 'Adam' who is still alive and well to this day and he's been governing THIS principality. Lorraine-Alsace. Which is right HERE! That duke that I captured said that a Prince Adam was_ still_ here, he told us in prison before his head rolled!"

"You can't believe anything they say, Marchand. Those bluebloods do nothing but lie. He was lying to save himself, I think..."

"Quiet, Jourdain! I'm not leaving any stone unturned!" Marchand declared, as they continued to ride uphill.

Nearly half an hour later, the two revolutionaries came upon that same impressive, tall iron gate they had encountered once before. This time, it was daylight, turning to evening. The crisp fall day was still bright with sunshine that dappled over the ground, between the shadows of tall pines. The gate was open. Behind it lay a flat field of green grass, scattered with autumn-gold bushes that looked as if they had been the remnant of some majestic palatial garden at one time. A tempting fragrance, wood smoke mixed with cooking meat- hovered over the air and made them ride through the gate eagerly.

Marchand and Jourdain dismounted their horses, and saw that there were a group of people gathered in the field. They were cooking meats and all the trimmings over a fire, and the delicious smells made their hungry stomachs churn and their mouths water.

They drew nearer, and one man stood up amongst the gathered circle of people. He was a tall, slim young man, with longish sandy-blond hair and a friendly, welcoming smile. He walked towards Marchand and Jourdain as if he were expecting them.

"Bonjour, messieurs!" the man greeted them. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Charles, but you can call me Chip."

"Bonjour," Jourdain said, his eyes shifting over to Marchand's for approval. Marchand nodded curtly at Chip.

"The name's Marchand, and this is Jourdain. We are on a mission, searching for a royal family. Can you give us any information on them?"

"Well, yes, I can," Chip replied. "Did you know that this very ground we are standing in was once the grand palace of Prince Adam of Alsace-Lorraine?"

All eyes around the campfire focused on Chip, and the group nodded together in affirmation.

Marchand's eyes widened. "That was what I've been trying to find out. So it was destroyed? When? How?"

"Come join us around the fire, and have a meal with us," said Chip. "Tonight just happens to be a very special night. It is said that Prince Adam- who died in a terrible way over twenty years ago- still haunts the site of his castle. Tomorrow is the birthday of his lady love, Belle. We are here to eat and drink to show our respect for Belle and to appease the terrible Beast- lest he terrorize our village and take away our prosperity!"

The people gathered around the fire shuddered in fear at the mention of the Beast.

"Horrible, monstrous creature! It cannot be put to death!" crowed an elderly woman in a ragged shawl.

Marchand glanced over at the people; they all looked to be provincial peasant folk. It was an odd thing that this man was saying to him- but he knew he was lying. Marchand had plenty of evidence that Prince Adam was alive and ruling the region.


	14. Something's Lurking

Chapter 14- Something's Lurking

_A 'Beast'? What were they talking about?_ Marchand wondered. How could they be saying that Prince Adam died long ago, his great castle completely destroyed with nothing remaining of it?

Did they take him for a fool? Marchand and his men had broken into Louis' royal banks and institutions quite recently, and found records of a very-much-alive Prince Adam, who had been paying his share of the province's taxes to the tyrant King and Queen up to this very year.

_Where was the money coming from?_ Marchand pondered.

He looked over at Jourdain, wondering if he was thinking the same thoughts, but the younger man was just a dullard. He was shuddering along with this motley group of peasants.

"Who or what killed Prince Adam?" Marchand demanded. "Over twenty years ago, then? Who has been collecting taxes for the King and governing this province? Is there an imposter around, pretending to be a Prince long dead?"

Chip looked in interest at Marchand's blue, white and red badge on his lapel. "Monsieur...I see you wear the Tricolour. Is it true that you are fighting for our Liberty? You want to see Louis and Antoinette lose their heads? Please let it be so!" he said emphatically.

"It _is_ so!" declared Marchand.

"Then you must keep this absolutely secret!" Chip pleaded, his voice hushed and trembling. "There is an imposter, a village peasant- who has taken the identity of the dead Prince Adam so he can deceive the wicked King. He is sitting among us."

Marchand looked to the group of people sitting around the campfire. A youth of about seventeen raised his hand. "I am the one," Vincent declared.

Marchand stepped closer to the boy. He reached in his pocket and took out a fine piece of jewelry. It was a gold necklace with small oval charms, holding tiny portraits of the members of the old noble House of Rohan. There were six in all, spanning four generations including young Prince Adam Vincente Christophe. This mini-portrait was a replica the most well-known painting of Adam, created when he was ten years old. Marchand looked at the tiny portrait of Prince Adam, and gazed down at this boy dressed in modest clothing in front of him.

The boy and the child in the portrait looked amazingly alike, sharing the same brilliant blue eyes.

"The Prince and the Pauper," Marchand said with a chuckle. "I guess fairy tales can be real after all."

"I guess they can," said Chip casually, whose palms were sweating with nervousness. "Sit down and I will tell you a terrifying story. It is about what happened to Prince Adam all those years ago."

The two men joined the rest of the people around the fire, helping themselves to the feast.

"So where should I begin?" Chip said before a long pause to think. He looked over the people gathered, now eating roast ham and potatoes on tin plates like camping soldiers. It reminded him of his days on the Navy ships, where he used to tell the other sailors his sometimes-true, and sometimes-altered versions of the strange tale of his childhood.

Lumiere interrupted Chip's thoughts with a wise suggestion. "How about we begin with why we are here_, mon ami? _The reason we are eating this feast? Tell them the legend of the lovely Belle! It may keep...it...calm and less likely to...appear." The older maître'd shuddered dramatically.

"Yes- you're right, Lumiere. Gentlemen, this is my good friend Francois Lumiere. He was a servant when this castle was still standing, In fact, both he and my other friend, Cogsworth- the gentleman next to him with the pocketwatch, used to serve in the castle." Chip nodded to Cogsworth. "They helped care for Prince Adam when he was a child. An orphan, because his parents died in an epidemic."

Marchand and Jourdain nodded, chewing bites of the delicious campfire dinner, prepared with Lumiere's culinary oversight. Chip continued, speaking slowly and with a flair for the dramatic.

"There was once a young maiden from Molyneux, her name was Belle. She came to the castle one day, and...even though she was a peasant girl, Prince Adam loved her as soon as he set his eyes upon her. But the problem was, he wasn't sure if she could love him back, because of the way...he looked."

"What was wrong with the way he looked?" Jourdain interrupted. Marchand glanced at the tiny charm necklace. The boy had been handsome, just as his forefathers. And even if he _wasn't_\- well- how foolish could a peasant girl be to reject such riches and provision he would have offered her?

Chip put on the most convincing expression of terror he could muster. "It was a terrible curse of witchcraft! Prince Adam was a spoiled and selfish boy. He made a witch very angry at him because he wouldn't let her in from the cold. She placed a curse on him for punishment. She turned him into a hideous Beast!"

"That sounds preposterous!" Marchand scoffed.

"Sir, you must believe us," the old woman at the edge of the campfire said in her quavering voice. "It is true, some of us were there. We saw it, and you must not deny the existence of the Beast. His undead spirit lurks here, he IS Prince Adam, for Prince Adam and the Beast are one and the same man. If you deny him, he may appear to us..."

"With his monstrous fangs, and claws. You can't incur the wrath of Prince Adam the Beast!" Chip warned the men. "He will only be at peace if we celebrate and honor his lovely Belle, for she died along with him. He kept her from being taken away by her jilted suitor. You see, there was another man who wanted to claim Belle as his own. He found out that Belle _did_ return the Beast's affections. This made him go into a jealous rage. He marched up to the castle with all the village men, burst inside and battled with the Beast. He shot the creature with his bow and arrow, and stabbed him in the back. Prince Adam finally fought back and hurled the man off the castle roof to his death." Chip focused his eyes on Jourdain, for he seemed to be mesmerized, his eyes open wide.

"Horrible tyrant!" spat Jourdain. "He threw a man off the roof, over a girl! That poor man, what was his name?"

"His name was Gaston de Soleil. He's remembered as a hero in Molyneux for trying to fight the Beast. But he was not aware that he was actually the Prince. It was fortunate that he died that way, rather than hung as a traitor," Chip said solemnly.

Marchand's expression was doubtful. "So how did the Beast...er, Prince Adam...perish? Was it the arrow? The stab wound? What happened to Belle?"

"It was raining that night. The tower roof was wet and slippery, and Belle had climbed up there after Gaston cornered the Beast to the ledge. We don't know exactly what happened, but our guess was that he died from his wounds. Poor, heartbroken Belle either slipped and fell or jumped off the ledge when she saw that Adam was dead."

"This sounds so mythical, so unfathomable," said Marchand, shaking his head. "How could the entire castle be gone now? Twenty years is not that long, there are ancient palaces still standing."

Chip nodded. "I understand it's hard for you to believe. But it did happen, Monsieur. After that, the servants mourned their lost Prince and his lady love so much, they couldn't bear to live there again. It took nearly twenty years to burn and tear the castle down, but it was finally done. And all the riches and fine things of the castle- well, we servants and villagers had no choice but to help ourselves to it. We could never track down any of the Prince's relatives, so why not? Why line the King's pockets?" Chip laughed, and was pleased to see Jourdain chuckle along with him.

"We went on with our lives, and we thank the Beast every year for his generous gifts to us. We also refer to Belle as 'Princess Belle,' because we believe they are wed in the afterlife."

Chip finished his tale with a wistful look at the sky; he brushed an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. Marchand remained skeptical.

"How did this boy become an imposter for the Prince?" he asked, looking over at Vincent.

"That happened sometime later on. This is...Claude. He's a farmer's son," Chip said, gesturing to Vincent. "Everybody in the village noticed that he looked a lot like the Prince's portrait. One day, some nobleman, another Prince- threatened to take our land and rule this province. He wanted to join Lorraine-Alsace with his region, and rule the whole piece of land," Chip explained. "We got nervous, we'd be in trouble if he found out what we did with the castle's treasures. So we hid all the fancy objects and furniture from the castle under our beds and inside barns!" He laughed again.

"So when this particular Prince came to our village, little Claude's parents had a brilliant idea. They took him to meet that Prince. And the whole village convinced him he was Adam. Little Claude cried and cried crocodile tears about the death of his parents, and it worked- the man was fooled! Cogsworth and Lumiere, and my dear, late mother- I remember the three of them asked his permission to let Claude rule the province. With the adults' help, of course. Good old Lumiere did a fine job telling him he'd be his royal advisor until he turned sixteen. So after that day, the Prince left us alone. He was happy as long as the King got his tax money."

"Well _that's_ at least a believable story," Marchand said after Chip finished. "I don't doubt King Louis' greed. Even a child can rule a province, as long as he is believed to have royal blood in his veins and can take hard-earned money from the people. Terrible, corrupt system it is! But...I _still_ can't believe your cock-and-bull story about Prince Adam being turned into a Beast! That makes me think the lot of you are trying to hide something. And what that is, I am going to find out-"

"NOOOOO!" The old hunched-over woman sitting farthest away from the campfire screamed. "DO NOT DENY HIM! I warned you, it is too late..."

She stood up, her face a ghastly mask. She raised her gnarled, white hands heavenward. The smoke from the campfire began to thicken, and turn into a glowing, hazy purple mist.

Dark shadows now fell over the little group, as the sun was starting to sink into the western horizon. The people around the fire trembled as an image formed above them.

The image was of a creature. About eight feet tall, covered with reddish-brown fur, the Beast hovered over the fire in midair where the smoke had been. He looked to be a cross between a bison, a wolf, and a bear, his body hunched over, horns on his head. He wore a princely red cape, and he looked over the assembled people with glowing blue eyes, his fangs beared.

"Master! Sire! It is you!" Cogsworth shouted, his hand over his heart. Chip worried that the aged majordomo might just have a heart attack.

Lumiere supported his best friend in his arms, as Cogsworth was visibly shaking.

Marchand and Jourdain screamed in terror, as the phantom-Beast reached his paws down. He looked as if he was about to scoop them up and devour them.

...

In a matter of minutes, the two revolutionaries had run screaming to their horses near the gate, the animals also greatly disturbed by the apparition. They galloped away just as dusk turned the sky violet over the mountainside.

Delphine waved her wand, and the phantom-Beast disappeared. She then turned her wand over her old-hag form, and transformed back to her middle-aged, blonde and still-lovely appearance.

"Oh dear, oh my!" exclaimed Cogsworth, taking his face away from Lumiere's coat lapel. "I'm so sorry for overreacting, I never expected I'd see him...that way...again in my life!"

"It's all right, _mon ami_. Neither did I...I almost miss seeing him that way sometimes," said Lumiere.

Vincent grinned at Chip. "Brilliant job!" he exclaimed. Everyone else around the fire agreed, Lumiere patting a relieved Chip on his shoulder. Hélene, however, stood there a little disappointed, wiping white flour off her face. She had been about to stand up and act as the 'ghost' of her own mother- before the men were frightened away.

"So where do you think those two will go now, back to Paris?" asked Vincent.

"I hope, but for now they're probably going back to the village for the night. They're probably staying in the tavern's inn upstairs, and they..." Chip widened his eyes. "Oh no!"

"Oh no, what?" said Lumiere and Cogsworth together.

"Lefou!" Chip exclaimed. He jumped up and ran to his trusty fast horse, hoping he could get to Lefou before Marchand and Jourdain did.


	15. Old Secrets and a Happy Birthday

Chapter 15- Old Secrets, and a Happy Birthday

...

Delphine followed Chip as he began running. "You left your horse at my cottage, remember. What are you concerned with...who is this Lefou?"

Chip halted in his run. "Oh...that's right. Can we travel by magic to the village then? Right away?"

"I suppose we can, but...what is the problem?" the Enchantress said calmly.

"Lefou is the village tavernkeeper," said Chip. "He's not exactly the brightest lamp in the bunch, so if they tell him about a ghost-Beast, and tell him about Gaston being killed by the 'real Prince' all those years ago, he might believe it!"

"How could they believe that?" interrupted Vincent. "Didn't a lot of them go to my parents' royal wedding back then? The villagers are _in_ on our plan, they know everything- they won't believe any of it. None of them can be _that_ stupid."

"I'd hope that they wouldn't," said Chip. "But I made the mistake of bringing up Gaston! To Lefou, Gaston is like a _god_. He still has his portrait hanging in the tavern after all these years. He treats it like a holy shrine. If those men tell him that the Beast was Prince Adam, that's all Lefou's going to hear. That the 'real' Adam pushed Gaston off the roof. He'll be devastated, and then he'll be on _their_ side! And the problem is- well, it's kind of the _truth_, actually..."

"Monsieur Potts," said Delphine, "I cannot transport you by magic to the village tavern in front of everyone. Magical transport must be done in a remote area, as we had done before. And to be honest, I feel very weak now...the conjuring of my memories, making the Beast appear...it has depleted me tonight."

"Depleted?" said Chip incredulously. "You mean you run out of magic when you're tired? How can that be?"

"It can," said Delphine wearily. She looked deathly pale. "The spell took a lot of mind power. I haven't the strength to even transport myself to my cottage tonight."

"Sorry about that," said Chip. "I'll ask Master Adam if he will let you stay the night...and this time, I'm sure he _will_," Chip added with a wry smile. He tried not to worry about what could be said in the tavern tonight. He prayed that the men would keep their mouths shut around Lefou.

Everyone who had been assembled on the grounds put out the fire, cleaned up, and headed back inside the castle, ready to give Adam an explanation. They decided they wouldn't tell him about what really happened outside, knowing it would infuriate him.

Lumiere mentioned to Cogsworth that he'd like Delphine to perform the same Beast-conjuring spell in front of Belle- as a sort of birthday present. But when Cogsworth gave him a murderous glare, he shut his mouth appropriately.

...

The door of Gaston's Tavern slammed open, letting in a chilly draft as Marchand and Jordain burst in. They rushed toward the first person they saw behind the bar counter. At the moment, it wasn't Lefou, nor his son Henri. It was Lefou's wife, Sophie.

"_Mon Dieu_! We know what's going on in this village, you've all been lying to us!" Marchand bellowed drunkenly. "There's a _Beast_ where the castle used to be, and that thing just scared us out of our wits! We know the truth now! The Beast is actually PRINCE ADAM!"

Sophie's rosy, round cheeks blanched of color. She stood there, frozen in shock, as if she were about to keel over and faint.

"What...what did you say?" she squeaked.

In the corner of the bar, a stout older man exploded in laughter. "Well here's a case of _déjà vu_, isn't it, Dick! He sounds just like crazy ol' Maurice used to!"

"Stanley...don't say that about the royal father-in-law, have you lost your manners?" said Dick.

"Sorry," whispered Stanley. "Hey Dick, what's the matter with Sophie?"

Marchand and Jordain were both standing over Sophie in a stance of interrogation. "So you've covered the truth up, madame?" Marchand insisted in a low growl.

Jourdain pointed to the hunter's portrait on the wall behind her. "Gaston de Soleil- your town hero- he was pushed over the castle roof by Prince Adam- wasn't he? _Wasn't he_?" he screeched.

Lefou came into the bar room from the back, hauling a fresh keg of ale. He had heard the men's tirade toward his wife, and remained calm. _So now these guys are blaming Adam for killing Gaston? Saying Adam was the Beast? Can't get much crazier than THAT_, he thought.

Sophie, frozen in pure shock, tried to find her own words to ask of the men. "How...how did you know? Who_ told_ you?" she said, her voice shaking.

"One of the former servants told me, and I SAW the Beast!" insisted Marchand.

"How could you have _seen_ him?" said Sophie. "But...but he hasn't been a Beast for a long, long time...oh! _Oh_, _no_...she changed him back!"

"What are you guys, _crazy?" _Lefou mocked, rushing to Sophie's side. "Leave her alone. That's not true, Sophie...right?"

He looked deeply into her eyes, and finally noticed her distress. Her eyes were pooling with tears of guilt and secrets.

"Sophie?"

"It's happening all over again!" she began sobbing, and ran out of the tavern toward home. Lefou rushed after her, leaving Marchand and Jourdain behind. The two revolutionaries glared at Dick and Stanley.

"I got no idea what's wrong with her," said Stanley, shrugging.

...

"Sophie...c'mon, _cherie_, don't cry. Pull yourself together." Lefou tried to console Sophie, stroking her shoulders, wondering why she was so upset at Marchand and Jourdain's crazy talk.

"C'mon Sophie, Adam wasn't the Beast. He- he didn't push Gaston off the roof. Why are you..." He put his hands on her cheeks, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, trying to make her look him in the eyes. She wouldn't.

"Gaston killed the Beast a long time ago. You _always_ told me that..._right_?" he pressed, begging her to agree.

She scrunched her eyes tightly, a fresh flood of tears falling. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for_ what_?" Lefou was getting increasingly disturbed. "They can't be right about that! They're _nuts_!"

"Something terrible must've happened- she changed him back, they saw him..."

"Saw_ who_, Sophie? They said Prince Adam's a Beast. They're_ loony_!" He laughed nervously. "Heh-heh, even I wouldn't believe _that_!"

"I don't want to talk about it..." Sophie collapsed on the chair, sobbing.

"Why? Why are you upset about what they said...it can't be _true_!"

She covered her face with her hands, and he could see her nodding a little.

"Huh? You think that's_ true_? But Sophie..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Gaston was a bad, evil man...Adam didn't push him, he didn't mean to...but Gaston _deserved_ it! He _wasn't_ a hero, and I'm so sick of you_ thinking_ he was a hero!"

Words poured out from her, a babble of secrets that had been dammed-up for over twenty years. "I didn't _really_ lie back then...I just didn't want you to know how Gaston died, I let you believe what _you_ wanted to believe, and us servants promised Adam no one would know about the Beast, that _he_ was the Beast...and I wanted to make you forget Gaston and just be_ happy_...because I love you."

"You_ lied_ to me..." Lefou was about to cry himself. He pulled away from her, went out and slammed the door, and began to run. He was about to run back to the tavern, to go back and face those two men. Instead, he used all of his energy to trudge uphill, huffing and puffing to the Molyneux church cemetery. In the moonlit darkness, he was able to find the grave.

"Gaston..." he choked as he flopped down on the damp grass, his pudgy fingers tracing the stone's inscription. "Tell me it isn't true!"

...

Belle and Adam descended the grand staircase into the dining room, and the entire castle staff, along with Vincent and Helene, rose from their chairs.

"_Joyeux Anniversaire_!" they cheered.

"Thank you, thank you all so much," she said. "I'm so glad that even with the things that have happened, I have _all_ of you. You are not servants to me. You're part of my _family_. I'm truly blessed," Belle said, a lump forming in her throat. Her forty-first birthday had arrived, and she was spending it here, at her castle home with everyone she loved.

Adam and Belle later thanked the Enchantress for all of her efforts during the birthday banquet. "I honestly want to say that I wouldn't change a thing about what happened in my life. I know I can trust you. I see you're doing all you can," Adam told Delphine sincerely.

"Thank you for your trust," Delphine replied. "It will make my wretched life worthwhile, if I can say that I saved you."

"Dinner is served!" announced Lumiere. "And as we walk in the banquet line, allow me to provide some of my own, ahem, musical interlude."

Everyone laughed as they formed a banquet line, listening to the familiar notes of Lumiere's voice singing a medley of Belle and Adam's favorite songs. It was November, the month before Christmas, and the entire meal put everyone in a festive mood.

Chip was behind Vincent and Hélene, helping himself hungrily to slabs of turkey and cheesy potatoes au gratin. Mirielle was walking behind him; she had maneuvered herself to get close enough so she could speak with him.

"I heard about your story to scare them away, Chip. You're amazing," she told him with a shy smile.

"Mirielle! Hi! You think so? Thanks." Chip's plate shook, he clumsily steadied himself so not to drop it and make a royal fool of himself.

Mirielle gently touched his arm. "Would you like to join me at the table...and Felicity and Chandelle and Antoine?"

Chip's cheeks colored slightly. "Mirielle...I would _love_ to sit with you! But...Belle and Adam already claimed me and the Enchantress as their guests of honor. I'm really sorry."

"Lumiere said there will be a dance at dessert time. I hope...to talk to you then," Mirielle said eagerly. Her trembling fingers smoothed her ringlet-curled hair, and unconsciously toyed with her necklace.

"Yeah, sure," Chip said curtly, as Catherine, Joséphine, and Renaud happened to walk nearby. He quickly grabbed some bread and went to the royal family's table.

...

The happy, carefree times of old were back again, it seemed. Next month would bring a joyous yuletide, it was for certain. And as if to confirm that sentiment, tiny flakes of snow began to dance outside the windows, covering the castle grounds with a damp white frost.

"It's snowing again, Adam!" Belle said delightfully.

"And on your birthday no less, I knew it!" said Adam, leaning over and kissing her amid the chatter of the dining hall. "I only wish we could go on our sleigh rides, but I'm afraid we can't this year. To be safe," he said regretfully.

Belle turned to Delphine. "Can you conjure snow in the Great Hall?"

Delphine shook her head. "No...I do not have that power. It is said...that every once in a while, an enchanted person is born with the ability to conjure snow and ice, and control the weather. But it is rare."

Hélene, sitting nearby, perked up at this theory. "Really? I wonder if I'll ever meet someone like that someday. I hope we can. Isn't that interesting, Chip?"

Chip was staring off in the distance, watching Mirielle.

...

Joséphine, Catherine, and Renaud sat in a table on the other end. They were now joined by Mirielle, who was pressing them with questions about the Revolution.

"Mademoiselle, to be honest, I wish you would stop. I'd rather not talk about it," said Catherine irritably.

"I only wanted to know if the King was in danger. Again, I'm sorry for your loss," Mirielle said, although her concern for the King was admittedly false.

"I'm retiring to the parlor. Come, Joséphine," Catherine rose tiredly from the table and walked away, followed by her daughter. Renaud remained, staring at Mirielle.

"You're full of questions- a thirst for knowledge. I admire that in a woman," he said with a grin.

"I'm just worried for the sake of Master Adam and Mistress Belle. It's not to be admired, it's common sense," she said, beginning to blush a little.

"I agree. Forgive me...and would you care to dance?" Renaud asked. The melodies and harmonies of violins and piano could be heard as the small group of musically-talented servants began playing their instruments. A few couples were taking the opportunity to dance near the snow-glistened windows of the hall.

"Well...all right," Mirielle said. "I don't see the harm..." She stood up with him. Her cheeks flushed deeper as Renaud's non-injured arm wrapped itself around her waist. He led her to the floor and faced her, entwining his fingers in hers.

"Aren't you still healing from your injuries?" she asked him.

"Yes, and the doctor said that dancing will make me heal much faster. _You_ will help me heal, won't you?" Renaud's voice tickled, warm and moist, in Mirielle's ear as he held her closer, and it made her shiver...a pleasurable shiver that made her feel almost tipsy. Her heart began to beat faster. He pressed his palm on her back and gently guided her in a slow, lazy dance.

"What was life like in Paris...I- I always wanted to go there," she asked self-consciously.

"It used to be wonderful, but not any longer. I never want to go back there. I know _exactly_ where I want to stay now."

"Oh? Wh-where?" Mirielle said, her voice shaking.

"With _you_." Renaud leaned down and brushed his lips against Mirielle's neck, shamelessly up to her cheek. She was face to face with him now, his hooded light green eyes and chiseled features breaking into a suggestive grin.

"Oh! I...that's nice..." She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling herself settle into the dance's rhythm. It felt good, just _too_ good.

Mirielle's languid gaze swept over the people seated, some of them looking curiously at her with Renaud. She caught Chip's eyes among the crowd.

He was looking straight at her, a tremor of hurt washing over his face. He rose from his chair and marched out of the hall. A few people turned their heads to look at him curiously. Cogsworth broke away from the crowd to follow him out.

_It serves you right, Chip. You never had the nerve to tell me you had feelings for me before OR after __Joséphine__\- so there! _Mirielle reasoned, as she danced the rest of the evening in Renaud's tempting, warm arms.

...

_A.N. Hello! I wanted to get a little of this story updated before NaNoWriMo, which starts TODAY! During the next month, I will be focusing on writing an original novel. I will be back to fanfic by December, because every year I like to write a BatB Christmas fic or chapter. Happy November! -Civilwarrose_


	16. The Noble Servant

Chapter 16- The Noble Servant

...

Chip walked out of the great hall and began to run upstairs to the East Wing while Cogsworth was trying to follow him. Chip turned and saw him out of breath in the landing of the first staircase.

"Chip, don't be upset!" Cogsworth called to him. "She barely knows this fellow. He's working his charms on nearly every girl in the castle. Believe me, my daughter is enthralled with him as well, and Pippa told her to not get her hopes up. I think he's nothing but a cad, this Renaud."

"Are you going to tell me I have a chance with Mirielle? She's always thought of me as like a brother, Cogsworth. A_ little brother_. For so many years, my Mama, and Pippa, and_ you_\- took care of us, raised us together. Then Felicity and Chandelle were born, then Vincent, Hélene...all one big happy family. Mirielle doesn't think of me_ that_ way."

"But I think she might," argued Cogsworth. "I couldn't help noticing her horrified face after Joséphine showed up at our enchanted castle door that day. You didn't see her reaction, but I did. I asked her what was wrong, and she did not tell me."

"I thought she was horrified because she was worried that _more_ royals would be coming to hide here, and that she'd be stuck serving _other_ Dukes and Princes. I didn't think it had to do with me."

"It's a possibility," Cogsworth said, shrugging. "But I do not know for certain."

Chip sighed in defeat. "I didn't think of her as more than a sister or friend until last year, when I used to read her letters. They were always so full of poetry, and kindness, and intelligence. I read them over and over, and I thought about Mirielle when I sailed the seas last year. When I came home this autumn and I saw her again, how beautiful she is, and kind, and smart, I...started seeing her as a woman, not like an older sister. Am I crazy for feeling that?"

"No," Cogsworth said. At that moment, Lumiere came bounding up the stairs.

"Chip, if you need some help staking your claim on Mademoiselle Mirielle, look no further than _me_!" he proclaimed.

"I don't think it's any use, Lumiere. I mean,_ look_ at Renaud. Has he tried to work his charms on Chandelle?"

Lumiere nodded. "He_ has_. Even though my Chandelle loves Antoine, Renaud made her giggle and swoon. Antoine is fighting mad about it! He was worried that Renaud would steal her away, and I've had to calm him down in the kitchen for days! I feared he'd put poison in the man's food!" he said, exasperated.

"So you were probably happy to see him dancing with Mirielle, for Chandelle and Antoine's sake." Chip said grumpily.

"I must admit..._oui_." Lumiere looked guilty. "But I'd much rather see her with you. He's nothing but trouble. A flirt, a philanderer, a trifling cad-" Lumiere noticed Cogsworth's eyebrows raise.

The majordomo cleared his throat. "_Ahem?"_

"And Cogsworth, _oui,_ I owe all my reformed ways to you. And Babette, of course." He laughed sheepishly.

"Thank you. And I owe my marriage to you, Lumiere. You taught me all about, well- _l'amour_."

"I _am_ the best!" Lumiere gave Cogsworth a hug. "That is what best friends are for! Helping each other!"

Chip began to walk up the stairs again. "Well, I'll just leave you to your best-friend bonding right now. I'm going to take a nap." He retired to his room. "Wish Belle a happy birthday again."

...

Back in Molyneux, Sophie Lefou was worried sick. Not only was her husband angry with her for the first time ever, but she had to know what was going on over at the castle. She kept looking at her arms, checking the mirror, terrified that the curse- now reinstated by that Enchantress of long ago- may affect her.

She was only fourteen years old when it first happened. She had been standing next to her best friend Valerie, felt a strange tingling in her body, and the next moment, a green chair sat where the other maid once stood. Sophie had looked down at herself then, and instead of hands, she saw wooden chair arms. She had also been made of pink upholstery, because she'd been wearing a pink maid's dress that Christmas Eve.

And she had to stay that way for ten whole years.

And Belle. Poor, poor Belle! Of course, the Princess loved Adam whichever way, Beast or not, but what could have become of the royal children? Did the Enchantress turn them into Beasts, too? Was Belle also cursed somehow? The Enchantress had been put in the sorcerers' prison, she'd heard tell from Mrs. Potts back then. But her prison time had ended. The enchantress had started out doing good by Adam, making the castle invisible to hide them. But now what happened?

Somehow, someone had made Delphine angry. She had turned on them, Sophie suspected.

Sophie decided to take the beer wagon and drive up to the castle to find out. Her son, Henri, caught up with her as she started to speed the Clydesdale horses out of the village and offered to drive, and she allowed him but insisted she enter the castle alone. She was not only concerned the curse was back, but that her husband- always loyal to Gaston even in death- was about to turn on Prince Adam and send the revolutionaries back on the hunt, as revenge for that night Lefou's best friend was pushed off the tower.

...

Renaud and Mirielle walked hand-in-hand about the gardens, talking and getting acquainted. For the most part, Renaud listened to Mirielle speak. He learned that she was a sympathizer for the Revolution despite being a loyal servant of Adam and Belle.

"Why would you want the King and Queen beheaded?" Renaud finally asked her. "Don't you think it's bloodthirsty? I thought you hated violence, that you believed in peace."

"I do. I'd rather not have anyone beheaded! But the King has caused people to starve and suffer, and so when it comes down to it, a few sacrifices are worth saving thousands of innocent lives. That's what I've decided. Monsieur Robespierre is bloodthirsty, but only because he wants to avenge the cries of the people. And Mistress Belle had tried so hard to bring food and shelter to those children in the orphanages over the years, but all in vain! The King has shut the orphanages down. He's a monster, Renaud."

"I agree. He is, Mirielle." Renaud grinned down at her. "You have a good point."

"But what about the Duchess Catherine? She can't hear you expressing such sentiments. Don't say such things around her. Or her daughter."

"I won't. I can just keep my feelings about the matter our secret. You and me only." He leaned forward to her face, and Mirielle's eyes widened.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I-I haven't ever been kissed before. By a gentleman."

"You haven't? Have you been living under a rock? You're a lovely woman. Let me kiss you."

"All...right." Mirielle allowed Renaud to embrace her, and she opened her lips to his. She embraced him back, lost in desire as they kissed, long and lingering.

Up in the enchanted castle's fourth-floor window, Chip Potts watched the two of them down below. He turned away in despair.

...

Chip wasn't the only one who was hurt and heartbroken over Renaud and Mirielle's new coupling. Felicity Cogsworth saw the two out the great hall's windows as she was walking by. The young woman had believed that Renaud was fond of her, as he had been the first man aside her father ever to pay her a compliment. He had said her ginger-red hair was like fiery embers. She since dreamed of kissing him the way that Mirielle now was.

Felicity never disliked Mirielle, or anyone for that matter. In fact, she always hoped Mirielle would someday find a beau and not be doomed to become an old maid. But now, she was hurt. Deeply hurt.

Her mother, Pippa, comforted her. "Lissie-love, your father and Lumiere say that he's a Casanova. He might move on to someone else and break Mirielle's heart. I suggest you steer clear of him. Keep your chin up, and concentrate on your duties. You will find a beau someday."

"I'm nearly twenty, and Renaud has been the only man who's ever complimented me. Antoine loves Chandelle. Even scrawny little Christophe ignores me."

"Let them ignore you. The good apples are always hard to reach. Don't be one of the easy apples, Felicity. Work hard and cultivate your mind. Your heart will fool you."

"All right, Mum," Felicity said with a soft smile.

...

Renaud and Mirielle continued to walk in the grounds shimmering with autumn frost, holding hands.

"Mirielle?"

"Yes?" she replied.

"Master Adam and Belle are the only royalty you are fond of, correct?"

"Well...the Duchesses Catherine and Joséphine aren't bad. I sympathize with them now. Their husband and father was beheaded, after all. Why?"

"So...besides Adam, Belle, Catherine, and Joséphine...would you admit, that every other nobleman or noblewoman is cruel, oppressive, and despicable?" Renaud asked her.

"Most likely," Mirielle said after thinking for a moment.

"May I share a secret with you?" He pulled her close to him.

"All right," she said, with a shy smile. "You may tell me your secret."

Renaud faced her with a pained look. "I...am of noble blood."

"You are? But...you are Catherine and Joséphine's servant," Mirielle said, confused.

"Joséphine is my sister, Mirielle. My half-sister."

"You're the son of the Duke?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes. I am. But my mother was a servant girl and so I was illegitimate. Because of that, I was not accepted by Duke René-Louis Mériadac as a true son. Catherine wouldn't allow of it, either. When she looks at me-" Renaud's green eyes glistened in despair- "she sees nothing but her husband's infidelity. She despises my very existence, so she revels in treating me as her manservant."

"Oh, Renaud! I'm terribly sorry. That's completely unfair!"

"It may be unfair, Mirielle _cherie_, but that is the cold, brutal way of the aristocracy. I've lived among them my entire life. I've endured it."

She lay her head on his shoulder. "Have you ever tried to fight for a royal title?"

Renaud raided his chin up in an air of integrity and determination. "No, I haven't. Because the Revolution will do away with such outdated notions- this bloodline and marriage and inheritance foolishness. Having half-noble blood means nothing to me. Because my father did not love or honor my birth mother."

"I'm glad. You're more noble in heart than your real father was, in my opinion," Mirielle replied, smiling up at him.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me, for so many years I've lived with the secret and felt like such an outsider. I'm happy to be away from the Mériadac palace, now."

"But, the Duchesses said they are going to move on to Austria, to Catherine's original family. Is she going to make you come with her?"

"I don't know, yet. She may." He sighed. Mirielle looked up at him sadly.

"Maybe I can do something. I can help you. Perhaps she can hire other servants from our castle. But...who would want to go to Austria?"

She tried to think of someone in the castle who might be willing to take Renaud's place.

"I know! Perhaps Rolf and Rudolf Bierstein would. Their family is from Austria, and their father before them was a winemaker for the Habsburgs, Catherine's family. They rarely make beverages, because Adam and Belle usually buy all the ales and drinks from the village, from LeBoo or whatever that little man's name is. So the Biersteins are assistant cooks. I think they'd like to serve Catherine."

"I hope so. Thank you for your care and concern, _cherie_." He kissed her.

Felicity happened to be walking in the distance past Renaud and Mirielle and waved. She decided to follow her parents' advice, be dutiful and wise, tend to the castle and get over this tall, sandy-haired handsome man with the dazzling smile and charm. In a pretty green cape that contrasted with her bright red hair and camouflaged her not-so-dainty figure, she skipped across the frosted gardens to the gate, humming a tune to herself.

There were visitors from Molyneux approaching, so she would help guide them to the castle that was invisible to all but its residents. Felicity recognized the village visitors from the great draft horses and beer wagon- Madame Sophie, and someone else who was driving with her.

"Bonjour, Sophie!" she called out. "Do you need help? I can...uh..."

Felicity was at a loss for words.

She was acquainted with Sophie, the nice lady from Molyneux who sometimes came to deliver ale with her short little husband. She might have seen her two daughters once or twice; sweet girls about the younger Princess' age. Or, more often, the chubby little boy who looked like a copy of his squat papa, _sans_ the bulbous nose.

But she was not familiar with the amazingly cute, tall, grinning young man in a brown coat and red scarf, holding the reins of the great Clydesdale horses.

"Hi! What's your name?" Henri-Gaston Lefou said in a friendly greeting.

"B-Bonjour. I'm Mademoiselle Cogsworth. I'm here to show you the way to the door," she said, blushing.

She barely noticed Sophie's babbling about some kind of a 'curse.' All she could do was stare at the young man.

"Aren't you gonna ask what my name is?" Henri asked her in a playful tone.

"Oh! What-what's your name? Monsieur?" she said, flustered.

"Henri. Forget the Monsieur stuff."

Felicity slowly walked to one of the Clydesdales to pet it. "Your horses are beautiful," she commented.

Henri hopped off the wagon, while Sophie stared at the empty space in the sky that she knew was the castle. Nothing seemed to have changed. This girl seemed unalarmed.

"This one you're petting is named Félicie, and the other next to her is Jean-Paul," Henri was telling Felicity. "My little brother named him 'Jean' after himself."

"Félicie? My name is Felicity," she said. "Lumiere calls me Félicie sometimes. He's the head servant here."

"Okay! I'll remember your name easier, then. I'm glad you told me, Felicity. Are you English? You kinda have an accent." Henri asked.

"Well, yes, my parents are from England, but I was born here. I speak both languages."

He smiled warmly. "My Maman here has always liked English things. Do...do you remember Mrs. Potts-DeFleur? Who was married to Belle's papa?"

Felicity beamed. "Of course! She was my great-aunt! My mum's aunt."

"Really? Wow! Small world, huh? How come I never met you before?" asked Henri incredulously.

"I don't know," she replied shyly. "I don't go to Molyneux much. I'm in the castle kitchen mostly."

Sophie, still sitting up in the wagon's driver's seat, smiled. "I remember that kind of life," she told the girl. "I was a scullery maid growing up in the castle."_ And a chair_, she thought.

She wanted to ask Felicity about Adam, but the girl was caught up in talking with Henri-Gaston. Her son was now telling her about how he was not only a good ale brewer like his father, but a good game hunter as well. He seemed to be trying to impress her, she realized.

"Mademoiselle Felicity," Sophie interrupted, "How is Master Adam today?"

Felicity finally looked away from Henri and to his mother, a blush on her cheeks. "He's doing so well! Last night was Mistress Belle's birthday ball. Come in and have tea with us, Mum will be glad to have you!" Felicity said joyfully, her demeanor finally fitting her name.

Sophie looked relieved, but also very confused.

...


	17. A Proposal, and Gaston Dishonored

Chapter 17- A Proposal, and Gaston Dishonored

...

Renaud and Mirielle, the unlikely new couple in the enchanted castle- and the subjects of much debate among the rest of the staff- spent all afternoon together exploring the castle's interior. As they ascended the stairs to the upper floors, Cogsworth spotted them and gave them a stern look.

"Mirielle, _what_ are you doing?" he asked, giving Renaud a raised eyebrow as he had his arm around her.

"Bonjour, Cogsworth. I'm giving Renaud some odd jobs. There's quite a bit of cleaning that needs to be done, preparations for the holidays!" she explained, as her beau held her tightly around the waist.

Cogsworth gave her an uncertain nod of approval. He was _almost_ certain he could count on Mirielle to be proper and responsible. When he retired- though he despised the thought- he had her in mind for the job of head of household.

Mirielle showed Renaud around the unused rooms and hiding places where she and Chip used to play when they were children. As Mirielle shared her memories with him, she tried very hard to think of Chip as just a 'little brother.' After all, he had been the closest thing she had to a brother growing up.

As she and Renaud explored a little room in the very top of the castle's high turret, Renaud playfully embraced her, kissing her neck.

"Renaud..._please_. I must return to my work, I'm afraid I'll get in trouble if I'm gone too long!" she said with a laugh.

"But _cherie_, you're too serious all the time. You ought to let your hair down and have a little fun!" Renaud teased back, in a manner he'd copied from watching that candlestick-thin old man who was _still_ so enamored of his wife. He pulled the combs from Mirielle's hair bun and let her light brown locks fall free.

"_Mon Dieu_, you're so beautiful, my love." He captured her lips in a kiss, his hands firm on her waist. Mirielle's body felt weak as jelly.

He kissed her cheek, her ear. "Let's go into one of the old servant rooms, just you and me. They will never find us..." he mumbled.

Mirielle pulled back, pushing on his chest. "No...I...I cannot. I am _not_ a woman of loose morals!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling.

On one hand, she wanted so desperately to know what it would be like...to experience a passionate _rendezvous_ with Renaud in one of the empty, abandoned bedrooms in the castle's upper floors. But at the expense of her reputation? Her job? Cogsworth would be angry and disappointed. He relied so much upon her in his advanced age. If she were a man, like Lumiere, Cogsworth would merely be irritated at such behavior. But Mirielle was a _lady_, a respected lady of the castle household. If word got around...

"I cannot...unless we marry." she insisted, remembering Mrs. Potts and her wise sayings about cows and free milk.

"Then let's get married!" Renaud exclaimed, gripping her shoulders.

Her eyes widened. "But...but...you cannot be _serious_. Me? I'm...an old maid, Renaud. I am now thirty-three years old, and have never..." Her cheeks flushed. There was no way he could be interested in a thirty-three year old spinster.

"You don't look a day over twenty-five, which is my age. It's just a number, my beautiful Miri. I don't care one bit. You are the lady I've been searching for all of my life. Please, Mirielle. _Marry me_."

Her eyes glazed over, lost in his pale green ones. She trailed her hand over the golden-brown stubble on his chin. For a moment, Chip Potts' face appeared in her mind's eye. His blue eyes, his laugh, the adorable way he told stories of his adventures at sea. The way he came up with such brave, clever plans to help the royal family. But he hadn't made a move towards her, and here was someone who was direct and assertive, who didn't beat around the bush. Renaud made it absolutely clear he wanted her and was a _man_ about the whole matter.

Chip Potts, on the other hand, was acting like a boy. She shoved her thoughts of him away, feeling a little sad. Quietly, she nodded and whispered. "Yes."

"Then let's do it, Mirielle. Let's get married. Next week, before Christmas. In the village."

"In the _village_? Why couldn't we have our wedding here in the castle?" she asked, confused.

Renaud gazed at her lovingly. "Oh, Miri, as wonderful as this castle is, and how much I would want to have a formal ceremony here- we must think of Prince Adam and Belle's safety, and the safety of their children."

"But the castle is still under the spell. It's invisible. Why would we worry?"

"But..." He searched for words. "Aren't you friends with some of the villagers? Wouldn't you want to share your joy with them?"

"Well, yes. There are some nice people in Molyneux, I guess I'd want to invite them," she considered.

"But none of them can attend, if it's in the castle! Can you imagine how hard it would be to lead a group of people to an _invisible_ _castle_? I was so confused when I came here! The revolutionaries are still in the village, poking around in their business. Sure, Chip told that crazy story about the Beast haunting to them, but they're smarter than they look. The villagers need to keep Adam and Belle safe! I mean, think of the diamond mine, Mirielle. Their livelihoods and security depend on the royal family's benevolence! So- if _one_ villager lets slip about finding the castle to go to a wedding, what do you think will happen?"

"The revolutionaries will know Chip's story was fake, and start looking for the castle again?" Mirielle reasoned. It still didn't make a lot of sense to her. She thought those two men had been scared off days ago.

"Correct!" Renaud exclaimed. "Now, admittedly, part of me sympathizes with their cause. If Adam and Belle were as selfish as King Louis and my..._father_ \- God rest his poor soul - then I'd be all for the rolling of their heads-"

"Renaud, don't say that!"

"But I don't. We need to keep this castle, and that beautiful family, as secret and hidden as possible. So this is what we will do. We will have a nice, simple village wedding in Molyneux, with dancing, and wine, and merriment, and invite _every_ castle servant to come, while Their Graces stay hidden. It's better that way. And besides...I like their little church on the hilltop. Don't you?"

Mirielle craned her neck up to kiss his cheek. "Sure I do, it will be romantic. The village it is. Next week!" she exclaimed, beaming, and threw her arms around his neck for a deep kiss.

...

Later, Renaud left Mirielle to tend to her household duties, so she would not get into trouble with Cogsworth. Now that their engagement was set, he had to go to the majordomo himself, and ask his blessing. He strode to Cogsworth's office door in the East Wing and knocked.

"Come in," the Englishman said on the other side of the door.

Renaud entered. The aged man was sitting in his desk, a quill pen in hand over a stack of papers. Cogsworth gave him a frown.

"Monsieur...Renaud. What is it you need? By chance, do you even have a _surname_?" he asked. Cogsworth seemed to dislike Renaud for some reason, which posed a challenge.

"My surname is Fournier." It was his mother's surname, a maid in Duke Réne's estate. His true surname _should_ have been Mériadac.

"Very well then, Monsieur Fournier, what is so important that you interrupt my bookkeeping on my busiest day? I have hundreds of numbers to add up, and little time to finish!" He glanced down at the chained pocketwatch he wore on his vest. "Where is Mirielle?"

"She's upstairs, overseeing the maids."

"Good. Did she arrange duties for _you_?"

"Yes, she asked me to dust the unoccupied bedrooms on the upper floors. She didn't want the ladies to do it, because...she told me that Danielle is expecting a baby and the dust would make her sick, and Chandelle isn't as meticulous as she should be, and Babette has her lung condition and can no longer do it. So I did." Renaud feigned a sneeze and pretended to brush dust off his coat.

"Well, all right. But that doesn't explain why you are here, disturbing me." Cogsworth's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The majordomo was certain the trifling cad was trying to seduce her up there, and prayed that Mirielle had the good sense to resist.

"I am here to ask your blessing for Mademoiselle Mirielle's hand in marriage," Renaud declared.

The majordomo's eyes widened. "Why...good heavens, so soon?" Cogsworth was perplexed. "But, you've barely _met_ her!" he exclaimed.

"The heart wants what it wants, Monsieur."

Cogsworth sighed, a disappointed look in his eyes. Renaud guessed that Mirielle's boss had someone else in mind for her. It was most likely that blond-haired little fool, Potts.

"Very well. She is far too old to need a blessing. But only if that's what _she_ wants."

"It is," Renaud grinned, straightening his posture. "Believe me, it is."

When Renaud left, Cogsworth tried to get back to his bookwork. "I have a dreadful feeling about this," he muttered to himself. "Poor Chip."

...

Renaud descended the stairs, bundled up in his warm cloak, boots, and hat, and happily went outside to fetch one of Duchess Catherine's horses from the coach they had traveled in previously. He mounted the black steed and galloped out the gate of the invisible castle and through the forest. In around a half-hour, he reached Molyneux.

"Bonjour!" he greeted the people bustling about their business. He tipped his hat at three attractive, identical blonde sisters. They were perhaps forty, but still buxom and beautiful. He could imagine how lovely they must have been when they were his age.

"Bonjour!" Mimi, Fifi and Gigi called back. They had been out grocery shopping for their families, and spending some precious 'sister time' together.

"There he goes, isn't he dreamy?" Gigi said, giggling.

"Monsieur Renaud. He's just so cute!" agreed Mimi.

Fifi laughed. "We haven't changed a bit, have we? Maybe our waistlines are thicker, but we still have that _je ne sais quoi_! Now, I wonder, who _will_ win the heart of that cutie?"

"Most likely one of the maids in the castle. Whichever one is the prettiest," Gigi decided.

Mimi had a thoughtful look on her face. "Gigi...Fifi...I was by the tavern today, and I know we don't like to talk about our pasts, about...Gaston...but have you noticed something wrong with Lefou lately? He's down in the dumps."

The other two sisters shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because Sophie went up to the castle yesterday without him. She hasn't been back. Why would Gaston have anything to do with it?" Fifi asked.

Gigi pointed to the tavern. The sign, 'Gaston's Tavern', had been torn down. "What happened?" she wondered.

"Lefou took the sign down this morning," Mimi explained. "And when I went inside the tavern, he...this is terrible- he actually took down Gaston's portrait!"

Gigi and Fifi gasped. "Oh, no! Why would he do such a thing? What happened?" said Fifi.

Mimi scowled. "I think it's awful, and an insult to his memory! Sure Gaston was a...well, that's in our past. But he's still the _hero_ who died killing the Beast and restoring Adam's castle! I'm going back to have a word with that little twerp!" Mimi began to flounce over to the tavern.

"Wait!" Gigi called out to her sister. "I think I know what's wrong." Her face was serious, thoughtful.

"What?" Mimi said, turning around.

"Well," Gigi began, "It's Sophie. There's a secret she's been keeping for_ years_ about Gaston and about Prince Adam. And...I _know_ the secret. I think I better speak to Lefou alone."

"Why can't _we_ know the secret?" Mimi said, irritated.

"You're our sister, we share nearly _everything!_ You know something about Gaston and the prince that _we_ don't?" Fifi asked, getting angry.

"Well...yes," said Gigi, guiltily. "I know, and so do our husbands. I'd rather that your _husbands_ tell you. It's up to them if they want to. Let _me_ go ask Lefou why he did this. _Alone_!" Gigi said firmly. She turned and marched off to the tavern.

Gigi came in to find a small handful of men, the trio of Tom, Dick, and Stanley, drinking ale. They gave her their usual greeting of whistles and catcalls.

"Bonjour, fellows!" She gave a flirtatious sway of her hips as she passed them, a remnant of her old barmaid days.

"Gigi, are you making any of your famous pecan pies today?" Dick asked her.

"I'll be getting them in the oven this afternoon! I suggest you lay off the ales before you eat at my café, or else you'll get indigestion!" she replied. She spotted Lefou at the bar working. "Hi, Lefou, can I talk to you a-"

_SCREE-SCREECH-SCRIIIICH-SCREEEEECH!_ A dreadful noise came from near the fireplace, and Gigi winced. She saw that it was just little Jean-Ignace Lefou, sitting in the big old furry chair, practicing his violin.

"Hi Gigi! I'm gonna be a virchee-osee someday!" he called to her.

"Hi, Jean sweetheart! I think you _will_ grow up to be a _virtuoso_," she told him warmly.

"Lefou, can you _please_ tell your kid to go play that thing at home?" hollered Stanley.

"I _can't!_ Sophie's gone, Henri's off somewhere, the girls are working at Gigi's and he's got nobody to watch him!" Lefou said in despair.

Gigi approached Lefou at his post behind the bar counter. "Hi Gigi," he said in a quiet voice, with none of his typical enthusiasm.

"Lefou, what is the problem?" she asked him in a low whisper. "_Why_ is Gaston's portrait gone?"

His face fell. "I...c-can't tell you. Not with the guys here," he whispered. "I told them it was getting cleaned, but-"

She put her hand on his, and looked at him with compassion. "I think I know. Is it something Sophie told you?"

He blinked and gazed down on the bar counter, trying to hide his distressed look.

_SCREE-SCRITCH-SCREEEEECH! _Jean's violin playing muffled their conversation. Tom, Dick and Stanley were getting increasingly annoyed. They gulped down their tankards as fast as they could.

"Yeah," Lefou finally whispered to Gigi. "And we had a fight. She left for the castle, and she hasn't been back." He put his face in his hands dejectedly; it reminded Gigi of the way he behaved right after Gaston's death.

"Oh, no!" Gigi exclaimed. She rushed around the counter to hug her friend, and whispered softly in his ear.

"I know the secret about Prince Adam being the Beast. And that Gaston tried to kill Adam."

His eyes widened as he hugged Gigi tightly. Tom, Dick and Stanley stood up, throwing their coins on the table.

_SCRIIIIICH! SCREEEEEEEE!_

"Let's get outta here, Stanley. Can't stand this racket!" old Tom grumped.

When they left, Lefou gave Gigi a pained look.

"He can't be our hero anymore!" he cried. "He wasn't gonna save our village from the Beast, _or_ the castle! He just wanted Belle, and nothing would stop him! I was so stupid to believe everything he ever said to me. I remember having this little voice in me, y'know, back then. Saying that I shouldn't _do_ the things Gaston told me to do. Especially those days I stood freezing in that snowman. I wanted him to have Belle and be happy, so I did everything...even though the little voice was telling me Gaston was doing bad things."

Gigi patted his shoulder with a sad laugh. "Lefou, you weren't the _only_ one with a conscience telling you not to listen to Gaston! My sisters and I all did, for a different _reason_ of course. But that all went away when we thought he gave up his life killing the terrible Beast, like Sophie and the other servants told us when they showed up in our village that year."

"The reason Belle loved the monster was...he was Prince Adam under a spell!" Lefou exclaimed after a moment of pondering. "It all makes sense now."

"I know. I found out a long time ago, because Belle told me," said Gigi. "But Belle made me promise not to tell anyone in Molyneux. She probably ordered Sophie not to tell, too. Remember, Lefou, she was Adam's maid back then."

"But...everything was a lie. Sophie _lied_ to me!" he said sadly, blinking back a tear. "So last night after she left me, I threw Gaston's painting in the fireplace and burned it. I'm changing the tavern's name, too," he confessed.

Gigi was shocked at such a drastic change of heart. "Oh, Lefou! I could _never_ imagine you doing that."

"I can't either, but I did it anyway. I guess that little voice that didn't like Gaston took over me. It felt good, too. Like cleaning up. Letting go of old stuff," Lefou admitted.

Years ago, when Gaston was alive, the 'little voice' was a problem for Lefou. It would frequently come out in the form of careless jokes at Gaston's expense, earning him a cuff to the head or a mug adhered to his face.

Gigi smiled. "It took me years to let go of him too! I know what Gaston did was selfish and nasty. As for Sophie lying, she hid the truth to _protect_ Adam, don't you understand?"

"I dunno. I _guess_ so. I think she moved to the castle to get her old maid job back," he said despairingly. "It might be over between us."

"Do you want me to go there and talk to her?" Gigi asked. "I know it's invisible, but I can find my way."

"But...you have the restaurant."

"I have your beautiful daughters Sylvie and Aimee cooking in the restaurant and helping me. It'll be fine. Lefou, you and Sophie are the sweetest couple in this village, and my dearest friends. It would break my heart if anything came between you," Gigi exclaimed, taking his hands in hers. "I'll go with you to see her." she insisted.

He nodded. "Okay, thanks. But I want to talk to her first. Um...Gigi?"

"Yes?"

"I remembered something. Sophie was upset because she thinks Adam was turned back into the Beast! I thought it was just those two guys' crazy talk. Do you think it's true?" he asked her, worried.

"I don't know...oh, no- that Enchantress! Maybe she did!" Gigi exclaimed.

"I gotta go to the castle. We have to see if they're all okay- Jean!" Lefou called.

Jean stopped his violin playing. "Yes, Papa?"

"Can you close the tavern, lock it, and go to Gigi's restaurant? I'm gonna find Maman."

"Why isn't she back?" Jean said sadly, laying his violin down. "She should be home by now."

"Don't worry, Jean. I'll get her back," Lefou said determinedly.

"Okay, Papa. I'll lock it good. Can I practice at the restaurant, Madame Gigi?"

Gigi smiled at the boy. "Of course you can, Jean. You're amazingly talented."

...

Meanwhile, Renaud was in the village tending to the business he came for, and one item on his list of things to purchase was a firearm. He stopped into Monsieur Armurier's gunsmith shop.

"Bonjour, Renaud!" greeted the gunsmith. "It is good to see you back. How is that shoulder and arm? You're a miracle to have survived a gunshot like that."

"I'm all right," replied Renaud. "It's getting better, and perhaps eventually, I'll get full use of my right arm again. And in fact, I would like to purchase a pistol."

"A pistol? Well, most people around here want rifles and muskets, but every once in awhile someone buys a pistol. What are you going to shoot?"

"Turkey and fowl, fox, things like that," Renaud replied, shrugging.

"Here is my best one," Monsieur Armurier told him, taking out a fine pistol from a box, with a shiny barrel and carved wooden handle.

"Amazing job," Renaud complimented him. "How much?"

"Two hundred livres."

"Here is three hundred, I'll need some ammunition." Renaud set his money on the counter. "I was wondering, can you shoot, say, three or four targets in less than fifteen seconds with this?"

"Well," the gunsmith said, thinking, "I can't, but maybe someone who's an excellent marksman can."

"I can practice," Renaud said, with a bright smile. "Thank you for your help!"

"Merci!" Monsieur Armurier said, giving him the box with the pistol and ammunition. Renaud took it and rode his horse a little way out of the village into the forest. There, he practiced his marksmanship, shooting tree trunks and trying to hit four or five in as little time as possible. Finally, after practicing, he could hit six tree trunks in less than twenty seconds.

It was a fine way to let out all of his anger towards Duchess Catherine, his half-sister Joséphine, and now, Prince Adam and his family who ruled over their majestic, grand, _enchanted_ castle. The bitter feelings he'd nursed in his heart since boyhood were all coming together.

In a pang of resentment towards the 'titled' royals, Renaud fired again, shooting seven tree-trunks in less than fifteen seconds. He was now getting closer to putting his plan into action.


	18. I'm Just a Fool, a Fool in Love

Chapter 18- I'm Just a Fool, a Fool In Love

…

When Renaud returned to the castle, he hid the gun and ammunition in his guestroom next to Catherine's. After stashing them away, he rushed up to the majordomo's East Wing office with a box of Cogsworth's favorite chocolate biscuits and a bottle of wine from the village. Cogsworth's eyebrows raised as he accepted the gifts.

"Well…thank you, Renaud. It was kind of you to think of me, I suppose…"

"No hassle at all!" Renaud exclaimed. "Monsieur Cogsworth, I am sorry to be away from the castle premises all afternoon, but I had wanted to quickly arrange for a minister to perform my wedding. Now that I am to be married to Mirielle, I see myself as a permanent member of this staff, rather than just a wanderer passing through. Would you like to allow me to do some of your bookkeeping from now on? I mean, you have complained of headaches and backaches for so long…I worry about your health, Monsieur."

"I do have headaches, but I will never give up my bookkeeping. I have been doing the figures for years, young man, and have my system running _precisely_ the way I want it to be. I wouldn't want anyone else to do my job, so the answer is no!" Cogsworth said firmly.

"All right, all right," Renaud said apologetically, his hands raised. "I didn't mean to offend. I do have another request. It's something I sincerely beg you to do."

"_Beg_ me?" Cogsworth raised an eyebrow once more.

"Yes. I beg you to attend my wedding. You, your dear wife Pippa, Lumiere, Babette, well- _every_ member of this household. _All _of you. We want everyone in the castle to come to Molyneux next Saturday afternoon at two. At St. Lucien's Church, with the reception in the town square! It will be an autumn harvest theme."

"But- but the Master and Mistress- and the children! They cannot leave the castle grounds until we are absolutely certain the danger of revolutionaries are gone! That could be months! _Years!_ Oh dear…"

Renaud's smile faded to a look of concern. "I'm sorry. I guess we have to be vigilant for them, despite Monsieur Potts' and the sorceress' amazing performance the other night. Well then…perhaps…only the servant staff can come. Cogsworth, I want you to attend as well. When was the last time you've been away from the castle?"

"The…summer of 1788," the majordomo said after thinking for a moment.

"That was a few years ago! You need just one day away from work. The royal family will be just fine if you're away for a short time. Please, Cogsworth. Could you make an announcement to the entire staff to come to our wedding? Mirielle's heart will be broken if even _one_ servant is not there."

Cogsworth shook his head, thinking of Chip. It was the _last_ place Chip would want to be on that day.

"Very well."

"Merci!" exclaimed Renaud with a bright white smile. He turned away swiftly and left Cogsworth's office, heading to wherever he could find a servant to help, performing menial tasks with a happy and jovial attitude. His personality puzzled Cogsworth- an ironic blend of gracious subservience and prideful cockiness.

_Very, very odd,_ Cogsworth thought. _Well, if_ _that's who Miri wishes to marry, I'm not to judge. At least I'll _attempt _not to judge…_

His thoughts were interrupted when Chip entered the office glumly "Hi, Cogsworth. What did _he_ want?"

The older man sighed. "He...invited the whole castle staff to his wedding. To Mirielle."

Chip scowled. "Fine, then. _Fine!_ He can marry her. I don't care. There'll be other girls..."

"That is true, Chip. Remember, I was a bachelor myself until I was nearly forty-five, the year the curse was lifted and I met Pippa. Before that, well, I was just like you. A series of broken hearts, one broken engagement, and promises...never meant to keep," he sighed.

"Thanks," said Chip, with a little smile. "I'm heading out again. Checking on how things are down in Molyneux, if the revolutionaries are really gone. I'll give you a report back tonight."

"Take care, Chip. And _do_ cheer up."

"Yeah, okay," he said moodily, before leaving the office.

…

Cogsworth decided to take a little break from his figures, paperwork, and concerns about Chip, and brought the box of chocolate biscuits downstairs to the ladies in the kitchen. His wife and daughter were working diligently, cutting up vegetables for the evening dinner. Pippa and Felicity were accompanied by Babette and Chandelle.

Sophie Lefou was with them, having stayed in the enchanted castle for the last day and night. She was chopping carrots and potatoes with the rest of the maids, despite not having been a member of the castle kitchen staff for decades.

"Sophie? For goodness sake, why are you still here?" Cogsworth asked.

"Oh, Cogsworth! It's so good to see you again. Um…uh…could I ask you something?" she stammered nervously.

"What is it, dear?" Cogsworth asked in a fatherly fashion.

"I…I want to ask to return here. As a maid, just like I was when I was younger," she said apologetically, fiddling with her dress and apron.

The majordomo's eyes widened. "I suppose you could…but- why?"

She buried her face in her hands, starting to cry again. "I'm not…sure my marriage is working out anymore," she sniffled.

"Aha! Finally!" Cogsworth exclaimed in triumph, a finger raised. "_Finally,_ you have come to your senses, and realized how that little beer-swilling imp you call a husband is but a foolish, brainless good-for-nothing! I've never liked him from the moment I saw him! After all, he tried to _kill _Lumiere!"

"He did, didn't he?" Sophie reasoned with a tone of irritation. "I mean…he didn't _know_ Lumiere was a real person, but he tried to melt him down to a puddle of wax when it was _plain as day_ he had a face! Henri-Ignatius isn't a bad man, Cogsworth, he's been so good to me, and a good father, but he won't stop worshiping that…_Gaston._ I'm so angry about something Chip said he did long ago. _And_\- he might side with the revolutionaries to avenge Gaston! I'm so...so _furious_ with him. I have to get away!"

Pippa Cogsworth stared at Sophie and shook her head in disapproval towards her friend. "But, love…think of your _children_! What about Henri-Gaston, and Sylvie and Aimee, and Jean-Ignace?"

"They could join me here, couldn't they?" Sophie pleaded. "Henri Junior is a talented ale brewer, but that's _his_ decision if he wants to work here, or- stay working at the tavern for his papa."

Lumiere happened to come into the kitchen. "Madame Sophie…you have…a _visitor,_" He spat out the last word as if it tasted of rancid liver. Following behind Lumiere was Lefou, a shy look on his face.

"Sophie…" he started to say.

"Henri, I can't!" Sophie said, the tears threatening again. "I can't_ live_ this lie anymore. Our love was built on lies I told about the Master, and Gaston. It…it's over between us."

The short man's face crumpled. "But…but…"

"I've missed this place, and all these people!" She gestured to Cogsworth, Babette, and Lumiere. "They became my family after my parents died. And I'm not sure if I can…stay with a man who once did such…awful, cruel things! I _just_ found out that before you met me, you were in a plot to send Monsieur Maurice to an asylum, just because Gaston told you to!" Sophie cried out accusingly.

"Who…who told you that?" Lefou asked, his face going pale.

"Chip did. He was _there _that day, hiding in Belle's bag as a teacup. He remembers looking out the window, seeing a crowd of men with torches surrounding her house. _You_ were one of them. You were accusing him and mocking him, in the loudest voice of the group besides Gaston! Chip's got a great memory, and he's sure it was _you _leading the mob. At least...he was sweet enough to forgive you once he grew up."

"But Sophie...that was a long time ago. Can't _you_?" Lefou said with remorse. He looked down dejectedly at one of his shoes, and dug his toe against the marble floor, making a squeaking sound. After a moment of silence except for his shoe squeaking, he glanced back up at his wife. She averted her eyes to the table, filled with vegetables to be prepared.

"_We're_ a family, too!" Lefou exclaimed, his arms spread out. "It was _twenty years ago!_ C'mon!" The childish, squeaky whine soon returned to his voice. "Yeah, I was _stupid,_ okay? He made me do stuff but I didn't _always_ wanna do it! I had no choice. He was just, well, y'know…"

"He was _Gaston_," Sophie said, having heard it a million times. "He was powerful, he was your best friend, and he yanked you out of a lake and saved your life when you were twelve. But you let him run you over ragged. You never stood up for yourself! I don't want my little Jean to become a weak pushover, Henri. He takes after you a lot. So I'm taking him here to stay with _me_." Sophie picked up her potato peeler to finish the potato she'd started moments earlier.

The other women didn't resume the work; they remained standing, feeling a sense of awkwardness over this very personal quarrel that had just erupted in front of them. Cogsworth and Lumiere, however, looked a little amused.

"But...but...he's _my_ son, too!" Lefou's eyes widened in dread at what his wife was implying. "You can't just...split our family up..." His voice trailed off.

"Are you planning to find those revolutionaries and send them_ here_ again?" Sophie accused. Everyone's eyes shifted back to Lefou, all of them looking nervous, in bated breath.

"Huh? _No_! Of _course_ not! Why'd ya think I'd do _that_? Those guys ran off back to Paris!" Lefou yelled.

Cogsworth and Lumiere sighed in relief at this.

"Really? Well I'm_ surprised!_ I expected you to seek revenge for Gaston's death!" Sophie slammed another potato on the cutting board.

"I don't _care_ anymore about that!" Lefou whined back.

"Are you _serious_? How could that be? Gaston's your idol!"

Lefou didn't reply right away; he shook his head 'no' slowly. "He's _not_ my idol. N-not after the other night..."

Everyone in the kitchen stared in silence at the bickering couple, their disapproval now beginning to shift to Sophie instead of Lefou. This even included Lumiere, whose face softened with pity. The only sound in the kitchen was the rapid _swish-swish_ as Sophie worked on the potato with the peeler.

Finally, Lefou stretched himself up to as tall a height as he could, sucking in a big breath. He was about to stand up for himself.

"This isn't about Gaston or the past! It's about _us_!" he argued in a stronger voice. "_You're _being the 'fool' now, Sophie. You _can't_ expect a guy to never make mistakes."

"Mistakes? Planning to send Maurice to an asylum was _worse_ than a mistake. It was brutal and cruel! That's _not_ forgivable." She kept her eyes on the potato.

"Oh _yeah_?" Lefou countered. "Well, lying about the Beast's death is...is...it's cruel to _me_, 'cause I wasted _all these years_ giving Gaston the glory he didn't deserve."

"You _agree_ he didn't deserve it?" Sophie looked up, staring at him in disbelief.

"Not now. 'Cause it took_ twenty years_ for you to tell me the truth. Why'd you lie, Sophie? Lying's bad. Father Guillaume teaches that every Sunday, ya know. And my Pop used to say-" He raised up his index finger-"False words blacken your soul with _evil_!"

Sophie huffed, and went back to peeling the potato with vigor. The peelings flew to Babette's dress, sticking to her skirt. Babette brushed them off with irritation.

"_Ahem_!" Cogsworth interjected. "If you wouldn't mind, could you two _please_ resume your discussion up in the parlor, perhaps? This is not the time _or_ the appropriateness-"

That moment, Belle and Adam entered the room. "What's going on here?" Adam boomed.

Belle approached them with a look of concern. "Sophie, Lefou- I couldn't help hearing you. You were saying you...can't forgive each other for things you did a long time ago?"

"Belle! Prince Adam! I...uh..." Lefou stammered, embarrassed by the sudden presence of the Princess and the Prince...who he now knew was once a terrifying Beast.

Belle went to Sophie first, putting her hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. "Sophie...can I ask you something? What would have happened if I gave up on Adam? What if I never loved him because of how he treated people when he was cursed? Love looked _past_ all that, like Mrs. Potts used to say. And I'm so glad I did. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sophie whispered.

"_Yeah_, Sophie!" Lefou burst out. "Listen to her. She's the Princess!"

Belle smiled a little. "Lefou, I think I'll _always_ just be that village girl on the inside. But _you've_ changed. I never expected you to build such a fine business in Molyneux. Adam loves your wines and beers. And you have a beautiful family! Lefou, you should be _proud_ of yourself. Sophie, you should be proud of _him_."

"Oh?"Lefou said, his face reddening.

"I wish I could've tried to know you better in those days," added Belle.

"You couldn't, though, Belle...I mean, uh, _Princess_ Belle. I never went anywhere without...you know."

"That's true," Belle said, a sad smile forming on her face.

"Henri-Ignatius," Sophie piped up, her voice quavering as she spoke her husband's formal name. "I _did_ feel bad about how Gaston died. That's true. I felt bad because you grieved for him. I'm...sorry I accused you of plotting against Adam and Belle. But I don't understand...you were always so _loyal_ to Gaston. He meant the world to you."

"He used to, but that's the past. You and the _kids_ mean the world to me now! I'm still on Adam and Belle's side! Cross my heart_._" Lefou made a crossing gesture and gave her a silly grin.

_"Really?_" A flush of shame colored Sophie's cheeks. "I _have_ been the fool."

Lefou took another deep breath, and spoke with sincerity. "Sophie, I'm not a smart man. But I know what _love_ is! It's about acc-_accepting._ And forgiving."

She took a step toward him. "You _are_ smart, in...your _own_ way! I love you, Henri. I'm _so_ sorry! I won't leave you. I changed my mind!" Tearfully, Sophie threw the potato and the peeler down. She rushed over to her husband, embracing him around the neck and covering his cheeks with kisses.

Cogsworth began to clap slowly, and the others applauded along with him.

"Well, that was quite...touching, I must say," said Cogsworth. "Now, would you two mind letting the ladies fix dinner and continue your, er, reconciliation...in the parlor?"

Lefou and Sophie ignored him, caught in a tender embrace. Lumiere scoffed at Cogsworth and swept Babette off her feet, planting a playful kiss on her lips. "The kitchen is the best place for love! You should know that!" he exclaimed, dipping Babette like a dancer.

Pippa walked over to Cogsworth. "I agree with Lumiere, George." Grinning, she snatched the lapels of Cogsworth's waistcoat and kissed him.

"Shall we?" Adam said to Belle. Belle nodded, and they, too, embraced in a kiss.

There were now four married couples embracing and kissing one another in the kitchen. Felicity and Chandelle laughed, partly in embarrassment at the sight.

Lefou grasped both of Sophie's hands. "Let's go home," he said.

"Please, don't tell the kids about any of this. Promise?"

"Promise!" Lefou started to laugh. "Y'know something? I knew you never liked Gaston. And now I can see why! He _wasn't_ our hero. I can deal with that. Guess what? I'm gonna change the tavern's name to 'Lefou's Tavern' from now on!"

Sophie smiled brightly. _"_Oh, what a wonderful idea! But...we should go see Belle's father, Maurice, first. _You_ should pay him a respectful visit."

"Uh...okay." Lefou glanced over at Belle.

"That would be wonderful. Papa appreciates having more visitors," Belle told them.

"Follow me," Adam said, after listening quietly to his wife's words about the past, about _her_ forgiveness and love. _It's so true,_ he thought to himself.

Lefou and Sophie left the kitchen with Adam and Belle leading them. The couple walked hand-in-hand through the great foyer to the staircase, to pay a visit to Maurice.

In the kitchen, meanwhile, the servants all grinned at each other and resumed their chopping and peeling vegetables. In walked in two _more_ visitors- Gigi and Henri-Gaston, the latter with a rifle in his hands.

"Gigi!" exclaimed Babette happily. "Bonjour! are you doing here?" She was then startled at the tall boy with the gun.

"Um, sorry ladies. I was hunting, then I decided to come up to the castle grounds, watching out for invaders," said Henri-Gaston with a tone of importance, lowering the rifle self-consciously. He spotted Felicity and Chandelle standing there. "Oh, hi!"

"Hi!" Felicity said nervously, brushing and fixing her dress.

"And I was outside, too," replied Gigi, with a worried look. "How'd it go with Henri-Ignatius and Sophie? Is she really leaving him?"

"No. They are perfectly fine now," said Cogsworth. "Say...Madame Gigi, I have heard you have _quite_ a charming little restaurant these days. Someday I will come in for a piece of that famous pie."

"Yes, please do, Monsieur Cogsworth!" Gigi replied proudly, happy to get the scoop on her friends. "I see you're cooking- mind if I help a little?"

"Can I help too? My Maman and sisters taught me to cook," said the younger Henri Lefou. He walked over to Felicity, and she shyly handed him a paring knife and one of her carrots. The group of them worked together preparing a delicious dinner of provencal stew, autumn squash and baked baguettes.

...

The evening meal was a delight, especially to Joséphine and Catherine, who were finally cheering up from their grief over their husband and father. Cogsworth made an announcement, urged on by Renaud.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make, in case you still are not aware. Renaud and Mirielle are going to get married in Molyneux at one o' clock in the afternoon next Saturday. All members of staff are invited to attend."

There was a smattering of polite clapping, and a few eyes turned to Chip. He smiled cordially, clapping with the rest.

Adam and Belle then stood up. "And, there is some _more_ news," announced Adam. "We will be saying good-bye to the Duchesses Catherine and Joséphine. They will be departing for Austria tomorrow morning, to return to their family there."

The crowd muttered in surprise. Renaud was smiling in triumph, near ecstasy at the thought of being out from under Catherine's authority forever.

"Yes, I was very surprised to find this out," said Adam. "They will be needing assistance in their long and difficult journey, and so they will be aided and accompanied by Messieurs Rainier, Rolf, Rudolf, and Reinhold Bierstein." The four stout, mustached men rose as a group, smiling proudly.

Adam spoke again. "We wish you all _Auf Weidersehen_, on your journey back to Austria, your homeland. You will return to the palace of Prince Frederick of the Habsburg Empire, who as we all know, is Duchess Catherine's brother."

Everyone clapped and wished a happy _bon voyage_ to the departing Duchesses and their newly hired servants.

...

The next morning, the Duchesses began to board the grand coach they had arrived in. Joséphine looked back, and approached Chip to give him a warm hug.

"_Adieu_, Charles," she said sadly.

"_Auf Wiedersehen,_ my little Habsburg Duchess," Chip said, his eyes misting over. "Good luck with your...your marriage to Alain."

"Thank you, Chip! I will always remember you for your kindness...and friendship. Please pray for our safe travels."

"I will," said Chip. Joséphine hugged him a second time, then climbed into the coach with her mother and entourage. Rudolf, the large man in the drivers' seat, shook the reins and the horses began to run. The coach rolled across the castle grounds, disappearing into the forest. They would head back down to Molyneux first, and then take the less-traveled path to the east- the long, difficult journey through mountain roads.

Renaud, standing next to Mirielle, happily waved his former mistresses _adieu._ Mirielle left his side to stand next to Chip, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I sure hope the snow and ice holds out where they're going," Mirielle said, worried.

"I asked Delphine to put a charm on the weather for their trip," Chip told her quietly.

Mirielle sighed with relief. When she saw Renaud glance at her, she left Chip's side to go back to him, and Renaud pulled her close.

Chip suddenly had the urge to go down to the little forest cemetery, and pay Mama's gravesite another visit.


	19. Renaud and Mirielle, part 1

Chapter 19- Renaud and Mirielle, part 1

...

Mirielle and Babette spent the next fair-weather morning in Molyneux, planning the details of Mirielle's wedding to Renaud. They took Chandelle and Felicity along after the two younger ladies begged to get out of the castle for the day, as Cogsworth and Chip both seemed increasingly cross.

"Chandelle, _mon petite_, is something wrong?" Babette asked her daughter as they separated from Mirielle, who was going to talk to the minister at the church. Chandelle was teary-eyed and upset, and seemed to get worse every time the word 'wedding' was uttered.

"Maman, I've decided…I don't know if I want Antoine to court me any longer," she said in a stronger voice. "I…I might want to break up."

"But why?"

"He doesn't treat me very well sometimes. Felicity's seen the way he talks to me," she replied, gesturing to her friend.

"It's true, Mme. Lumiere!" Felicity concurred. "He's bossy, and rude, and he treats her like she's nothing. If she makes even a little mistake, he talks to her like she's dirt on his shoes."

Babette looked with concern at her raven-haired, petite, pretty daughter - a nearly exact copy of herself physically, but lacking her spunk and temper.

"Chandelle, never, _ever_ let a man treat you like that!" she cried. "You deserve to be treated how Papa treats _us_. If he doesn't start treating you with the respect and love you deserve, tell him you'll find someone who _will_! Are you in love with him?"

"Yes...I was completely until that day he called me 'stupid' after telling the man about the castle. Before it was just little things, but he's hurt my feelings. I just don't know," sighed Chandelle. "I want the kind of marriage you and Papa have…and if I marry Antoine, I don't know if he'll keep acting like this."

"Your father is one of a kind, _oui_!" Babette replied. "Antoine is a talented chef, and will succeed Bouche as Master-chef soon. Your Papa and I were thinking of only that, and we thought him suitable. You need to give him a talking-to. Tell him what I just said!" Babette replied.

"Oh! Monsieur Renaud!" Babette called out when she saw Renaud approaching them in the town square, dressed in a bright blue coat with gold buttons. She'd prefer he wear something less conspicuous in the village crowd. Less…_regal_. "Have you found a band to play for the reception dance?"

"I have," Renaud declared. "A very fine group of musicians. I wouldn't have expected it in this provincial place." He fumbled with something in his pocket, trying to tuck it back in quickly.

But Babette spotted it. "A gun? Why do you have a _gun_?" she asked in shock.

"Good question, Madame. I was doing some fox hunting! A way to make a little extra money for Mirielle and myself. The furs sell for a decent livre, here in town." He whistled then, as if he were calling for his faithful hounds. Instead of dogs, two teenage girls and a young boy came running to him: Sylvie, Aimee, and Jean Lefou, all carrying baskets of fox furs.

"Monsieur Renaud, you're the best shooter _ever_! You didn't miss anything!" little Jean exclaimed.

"_Oui,_ that is true, my boy!" Renaud said with a grin. "Now, bring them to the general store, so I can get paid. And make it quick, or no tip!"

"Okay! We'll be back in no time!" Jean said enthusiastically.

Before following her siblings, Sylvie gave Felicity and Chandelle a friendly smile. "Are you coming to the wedding, too?" she asked.

"Yes, we are!" said Felicity. "Is your…other brother coming? Henri?" she blurted out as an afterthought.

"He'll come if you do!" Sylvie replied with a wink before turning to carry her basket away.

"Yes!" Felicity said to Chandelle in a high-pitched voice, jumping up and down a little. She stopped when seeing her best friend's gloomy look. "Chandelle, cheer up. The wedding party might be a good time to make the decision whether you want to stay with Antoine, or…if you really wish to be single. You may meet others there."

Chandelle smiled lightly. "_Oui_…"

…

Renaud checked the tavern once again to see if those revolutionaries - Marchand, Jourdain, and their men - were still lurking around Molyneux. They were long gone, and the tavern regulars said they hadn't seen them since. A grin of triumph came over his handsome features. They were out of his hair; he was safe from them. His father had been beheaded at the hands of revolutionaries, and he'd be goddamned if he ever let them lay a finger on _him_.

While he felt no true grief for the father he barely knew, Renaud wanted his true identity back. Although no one knew it, he was a distant blood cousin to Prince Adam - something he had confirmed when reading the family records in Adam and Belle's great library while pretending to dust shelves for Babette. He wanted to reclaim his rightful place in his noble bloodline, which flowed through Adam's grandfather Prince Jules-Alexandre, all the way back through the generations to a cousin of the great Louis XIV. It was his birthright, and he deeply resented that it had been denied him.

As he walked down the cobblestone street of Molyneux, he scowled as he saw a familiar figure in a blue vest heading toward him - Chip Potts. He fixed his face in a warm smile and strode towards him. "Hello, Chip! What brings you into the village the same day as me?"

"Doing errands for Cogsworth. Why do you ask?" Chip replied irritably. He turned from Renaud and started to walk away.

"Chip, what's wrong? Why so glum?" Renaud pressed, increasing his gait to catch up with the other man. "I actually wanted to ask you to do me an honor."

"What honor?" Chip frowned.

"The honor of being the best man at our wedding. You are practically going to be my brother-in-law, after all. Mirielle has always loved you as her _dear_ little brother. She has so many stories about you."

"Well...congratulations on your marriage," he found himself saying, trying to be cordial despite the regret and heartbreak. "But I can't leave the castle that day if so many are out. I'm staying with the family if they are all alone."

"Well, that is sort of rude, isn't it? Missing your own sister's wedding?"

"She's _not_ my sister!" Chip said angrily. "I think you have things a little mixed up. Mirielle and I are not related. We are _not_ brother and sister! You and Joséphine _are, _though! And don't tell me it isn't true!"

"What?" Renaud was unnerved by Chip's unexpected perceptiveness. "What would possibly make you think that? I am the Duchess's _servant,_ not a son or brother!"

"You and Joséphine have the same exact eyes, the same mouth, and the same smile. I've been looking at _both_ of you for weeks now, and when I first saw you, I assumed you were siblings until I was told otherwise. Who was your mother, if it wasn't the Duchess Catherine?"

Renaud glared at him, his upbeat attitude gone. "If you _must _know, my mother was a cleaning maid," he said bitterly. "She died ten years ago."

"What was your father's name?" Chip demanded.

"_I don't know_!" growled Renaud. "I was an illegitimate, bastard child! Why is _any _of that your concern?"

"I guess it isn't," Chip said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get personal. But Mirielle isn't my sister, and I'd rather do my duty to stay at the castle. I'll see you later." He walked away, trying to calm himself down.

Renaud scowled at the other man as he walked away. Yes, perhaps it _would_ be better if Chip Potts stayed in the castle that day.

…

Mirielle sat in her room, trying to write in her to-do list. She was a flurry of mixed emotions. She wasn't certain whether she was making a mistake or not. She had finally secured a suitor, she would finally marry, and even become a mother if it were possible; she was still young enough for that. She thought she loved Renaud; he made her feel butterflies in her stomach, she enjoyed his kiss and touch. Wasn't that what love was about? After all, she deserved the chance to experience romance and matrimony and children - the kinds of things other women experienced before they became too old, right?

She glanced out her window and spotted Chip riding his horse from the front gate, and sadness enveloped her heart. It would be different now. He would have to be - as Renaud called him - her 'brother in law.'

It didn't feel right.

She heard Cogsworth walking past in the hallway, heading from his office down to the staircase. She knew that he wasn't happy with her choice - she could sense it. With Renaud as her husband, she would likely never get that promotion she had yearned for - that coveted position of majordomo once Cogsworth decided to retire. Or more likely, once the position of majordomo was yanked from Cogsworth's cold, dead hands. She didn't want to think about that - the man was practically a father figure to her.

From what Renaud had been saying about the older man the day before, his health was deteriorating. Mirielle couldn't disagree with that. Furthermore, Renaud had made it clear that he had the expectation of becoming the castle's next majordomo, after describing his position back in Duchess Catherine's chateau in his days in Versailles. When Mirielle tried to protest, her fiancé had laughed and said he had never heard of a _woman_ as the head of a palace household before. She had wanted so much to continue protesting, but resisted the urge for the sake of peace between them.

…

Mirielle tried on her best, newest dress, which she would wear on her wedding the following Saturday. It was a pale cream dress with cerulean blue rosettes and trim and an Empire waist. It was the very latest style, often worn by Belle and Heléne. She couldn't help wanting to emulate the kinds of styles they wore, though she simultaneously chastised herself for wanting to dress like one of the princesses.

There was a knock on her door, and she turned from the mirror. "Yes! Come in!"

"It's me, Chip."

She went to the door and opened it, letting him in. She felt the sudden urge to embrace him, and began to put her arms around his tall shoulders, but he pulled away.

"Is something wrong?" Mirielle asked. "I can always tell when something's bothering you."

"Uh...well, you're right. Something is." He was holding a newspaper, the latest copy of the _Paris Informer_, a revolutionary press release. He showed her the main article.

"It's a list of more arrests and executions, more noble names, but look at this." He pointed to a small article on the far left of the page, in tiny print. "Marchand and Jourdain. They were arrested for failing to find and capture Adam and Belle. They might end up being executed themselves by their comrades, or- " He squinted at the print. "-taken to an asylum for the insane. It's all _my_ fault."

"I'm sorry, Chip," Mirielle said sympathetically. "You had to do what you needed to protect Adam and Belle."

"If those men are executed, that will be two _more_ people who got killed because of me," he said sadly. "I know I shot that man to death at the gate. I never meant to do that, or this."

"Chip, I don't know what to say. I despise bloodshed, and death as well, but these are terrible times. These are the _worst_ of times! You're a good kind man- please don't punish yourself. Actually...you're the best man I've ever known in my life."

"Even better than Renaud?" His blue eyes sought hers, and Mirielle felt tears spring to her own.

"Yes. Even Renaud. I feel like I _have_ to marry him. Or...I may never have the chance again."

He swallowed hard. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I think…yes."

He stood there silently, his mouth wanting to open, but the words would not come. The words he wanted to say died; his courage to change things skittered away like the leaves in the November winds outside her window.

His eyes lowered to the newspaper in his hands. Moments passed, and when he looked back at Mirielle, she was smiling a little, though the expression in her pretty brown eyes was bittersweet.

"Who is that ugly man in the ink portrait?" she said, changing the subject. She pointed to the ink drawing at the very center of the newspaper.

"That's your friend Robespierre."

Mirielle began to laugh. "I'm very disappointed. He looks nothing like I imagined."

Chip laughed a little as well. "Yeah."

…

Renaud arrived back at the castle grounds in the late afternoon. There was now a distinct path in the ground that led to the invisible castle's steps, so it made his walk much easier.

_Idiotic spell the Enchantress put on_, he thought. _'The castle is invisible to all except those who know it as their true home.'_ If that were the case, Renaud should _also_ be able to see the castle by now! He decided he'd better have a word with this Enchantress once he saw her again. Ever since she had aided Chip with the false Beast-spirit apparition, she was never around anymore.

He turned around and went back to the stables, choosing Catherine's strongest horse and mounting it. He decided to go look for that Enchantress' cottage.

Problem was, Renaud didn't know where that cottage would be. The only ones who had been there were Chip and the two royal children.

And as luck would have it, who should he see walking about the grounds? None other than Vincent and Heléne! It was his lucky day. Renaud smiled and put the black horse into a canter towards the two.

"Vincent! Heléne! Let me speak to you!"

"Oh, hello, Renaud. Is there anything you want us to help you with?" Heléne asked him politely.

"Well, actually, would you have time to take a ride in the forest with me? It's a sunny, crisp day. Fine weather. Wouldn't you like to get away from the castle for a few hours?"

"But Papa forbids it!" Heléne argued.

"He's forbidden us from going beyond the gate. We can't even go to the village anymore," said Vincent.

"Did he say you couldn't even go into the woods for awhile?" Renaud said persuasively. "There's nobody there except animals."

"Wolves," said Heléne nervously. "Maman told us they are still out there. And I don't mean Monsieur Fabien. I mean _real_ wolves, the ones that almost killed her when she was young!"

"Don't worry. I have something to protect us against that!" Renaud reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his new pistol. "I'm an expert at fox and wolf hunting...not to brag!"

"Wow!" exclaimed Vincent, admiring the weapon. "That's a great gun! I've always wanted one, to learn to hunt. Papa doesn't allow guns in the castle...does he know you have it?"

"No, I keep it in the stables. I'm worried about our horses being vulnerable to wolves, the stables being _invisible_ and all. You know, wolves...being able to see _through_ the stable walls? They might kill our horses!"

Heléne winced. "Oh, I never thought of that! Poor Elodie and Beau-Noir! We have to protect them, too!"

"So," Renaud explained, caressing his pistol, "I've acquired for myself a little side job. Cutting down on the wolf and fox population. It earns me furs to sell, so why not?"

"Could you teach me?" Vincent asked eagerly. "I'll go saddle Beau-Noir right away!"

"Of course! Let's go for a quick hunt. Your parents won't find out!" Renaud laughed conspiratorially, making the two teenagers laugh with him. "Heléne, would you like to ride with us on Elodie?"

"No, I'd rather not. I don't want Elodie to be frightened. She's scared of gunshots - she might buck me off."

"Scaredy-cats, both of you girls!" Vincent teased.

"I'm going in to help play with Odelle's baby boy Jaquie! He's so cute! And read to Grand-Pere," Heléne said. "Have fun, you two!" She headed back indoors. Renaud watched her walk up in midair, levitating up the invisible staircase, then open an invisible door. She disappeared.

"So, anyway, Vincent," Renaud said casually. "After we do a little hunting, would you mind showing me where Delphine lives?"

"Why? Delphine is very secretive about who she lets into her hideout," Vincent said.

"I know, but I have something kind of important I need to go to her about. You know. A surprise for Mirielle. Something...magical."

"Oh, I see!" Vincent grinned. The way Renaud had romanced Mirielle so quickly, he was probably thinking of getting one of those enchanted roses for her, just like the one Maman kept on her bedroom dresser. Maman's bright red rose had intrigued him ever since he was a toddler - it never withered or died, it emanated red and gold sparkles, and Papa had often scolded him and Heléne about never touching it.

Vincent followed Renaud out into the forest, and for two hours, he watched him hunt down a wolf and three red foxes. He left the animals lying there, planning to pick them up when he could fetch Henri-Gaston for help later.

Renaud then taught Vincent to aim, practicing on the tree trunks just as he had practiced himself when he was young. Vincent was able to shoot through a knothole on a tree from a distance, and soon afterward, he shot his first red fox, which had come too close to him. Renaud congratulated him, and Vincent felt like one of the 'men' that day. Not a boy, not an educated prince, but a virile, outdoorsy, _hunting_ man.

"I'll take your fox with mine to Molyneux, and pay you for your pelt. Just don't tell your mother, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, can we go up to Delphine's like you promised?" Renaud asked.

"Well, all right," Vincent agreed. After all, after Renaud had given him a coveted hunting lesson forbidden by his mother, he thought the _least_ he could do was return the favor. He only needed to ride fifteen minutes to find Delphine's cottage.

Delphine answered her door. "Vincent, hello...Why are _you_ here, monsieur?" she asked in surprise on seeing Renaud. She glanced at Vincent. "Have your parents given him permission to see me?"

"Sure," Vincent lied.

"Come in then," Delphine said, mollified. "I will give you something to drink. Hot or cold?"

"Do you have hot cocoa? We've been out hunting for three hours in the cold, and I bagged my first fox!" Vincent told her. Delphine put some floating kettles on, and they produced hot cocoa in seconds. Vincent and Renaud took their mugs and settled in chairs in her tiny sitting room.

"Where are your animals you hunted?" Delphine asked, trying to make conversation. She had trouble relating to 'mortals,' even to this day.

"I left them, since we don't have a cart or assistant to carry them to town," Renaud said. "I'm glad it's cold out, or else they would spoil. I'll fetch my assistant later."

"Here, let me help." Delphine took her magic mirror and asked it to show the hunted animals. She held out her wand and cast an anti-decomposition charm on them. "It's how we Enchanters can keep our food fresh for decades. I've always pitied the mortals for the hard work they have to do, when all we do for household chores is a quick word of magic."

"I'm jealous," said Vincent. "You probably never needed maids or cooks in your homes."

"How does a person become magical?" asked Renaud.

"You're either born with it, or you're not," replied Delphine. "It runs in families. If I had wanted children of my own, I would have wanted to marry a full-blooded Enchanter. If I married a half-blood Enchanter, there's a chance the child would be mortal, and they are looked down on in my society."

"You never married, Mademoiselle. Why?" Renaud asked, perhaps a little rudely.

"I never thought of it. And I spent ten years in magical prison," Delphine said with a hint of irritation. "I did have one relationship with a man in my life. His name was Olivier. One day, I found out he had deceived me - he wasn't an Enchanter after all, but a mortal. He left me to marry a mortal, and live among your type."

"I'm sorry. So - do you not like 'our type'?'" Vincent asked. "Prejudices are wrong, you know."

"No...not anymore. Besides, there are very evil Enchanters, too. Fabien's son was murdered by one of them."

"That's sad. I never met this 'Fabien' you talk about," Renaud replied, trying to hide his impatience. "Say...can I ask about your spell on the castle? It only can be seen if it is your 'true home, correct?'"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sorry to say, there's something wrong with the spell, Mademoiselle. You see, I've been living there for two weeks, and I intend to stay to serve the family. I'm even engaged to the assistant head of household, a lovely lady. So I thought, by now I should be able to see it. But it's still invisible to _me," _Renaud blurted, trying hard not to sound like he was complaining...though he was.

Delphine shrugged. "I can't control that. The spell does what it does."

"But I feel like it's my home now," Renaud persisted. "Can't you tweak it a little?"

"I am sorry, young man," Delphine said firmly. "The powers that be are in charge of each person affected by the spell. I only cast it."

"But...you don't know who I _am!_ I-" Renaud abruptly cut off what he was about to say, looking over at Vincent. His face reddened a bit. "All right. I'm sorry I asked."

The conversation moved on to other topics. After a few minutes, refreshed by warm cocoa, Renaud and Vincent thanked Delphine and bid her a good evening, then headed back to the castle on their horses.

"Weren't you there to ask about a gift for Mirielle? An Enchanted Rose, maybe?" Vincent asked as they left.

"I forgot to ask. Never heard of 'enchanted roses' before," Renaud replied in disinterest.

When they reached the castle grounds, Renaud muttered "Damn!" under his breath as he looked to the empty sky.

Vincent looked at him curiously. "Why is it so important you see the castle, Renaud? You have a nice path that's been made - you _know_ how to get to the door. And once you're inside, you can see everything. What's the big deal if we can see it and you can't?" he asked.

Renaud didn't answer, only shook his head, scowling in irritation, as he rode his horse ahead of Vincent. Vincent's feelings were a little hurt. He only wanted to make a new friend and mentor.

...


	20. Working Hands, Put to Rest

Chapter 20- Working Hands, Put to Rest

…

The castle kitchen was the heart of the entire palace, the place where food and memories had been made for generations. Every day it was filled with chatter, laughter, teasing, arguments, and clashing personalities.

This November afternoon was no different. Chandelle and Felicity came into the kitchen at four-fifteen, breathlessly panting after having arrived back from the village. Head Chef Thierry Bouche and Chef Antoine had the ovens fired up and water heating for soup. They were waiting for the girls to help peel and cut the new pile of potatoes.

"Potatoes _again_?" groaned Chandelle, when she saw the enormous mountain of brown Russets.

"Yes _again_. Potatoes are cheap. _You're late_!" shouted Antoine, his hands covered in flour. He was expertly twisting dough into perfect moon shapes on the sideboard for croissants. "You're _supposed_ to be here before four!"

"Sorry, Antoine. Mirielle and Babette gave us permission go to town with them," explained Felicity.

"But you're still late!" Antoine scolded back, his eyes flashing angrily at his girlfriend Chandelle.

"Antoine! Give it a rest and keep making those croissants," Chef Bouche interjected. "Girls, get those potatoes peeled and cut! Christophe and Claude, make sure those onions are _completely_ peeled! There's not enough salt and pepper so we need _all_ the onions in the soup for flavor!"

The stout, seventy-six year old Thierry Bouche was, like Cogsworth, a man demanding of order. He depended on the staff to get enough food for fifty people prepared and served on time and did not suffer fools. Cogsworth, his backup in discipline, usually checked in on them once or twice an hour, typically taking up a clean wooden spoon to taste-test the meal.

Chip entered the kitchen. "Good afternoon!" he called out to the cooks and scullery maids. He took a spoon and noticed that the potato chowder soup on the menu hadn't even been started yet. "Um...is dinner going to be running late? Glad it's _me_ here and not Cogs-"

"I've got it all under control!" Chef Bouche exclaimed in a hoarse voice.

"It's okay, Monsieur Bouche...wait, are _you_ okay? You look a little pale," Chip said, noticing that the head chef looked ill again. He had been ill quite often lately, and Chip and Lumiere found themselves both cooking in his place a few times, with Antoine in charge.

"I'm..._fine_," Chef Bouche said dismissively, though he seemed to be grimacing in what looked to be physical pain.

"Chip, where's my Papa?" asked Felicity.

"He and Master Adam are having a meeting upstairs. Something important, about financial matters...it sounds kind of bad."

An onion slipped from the counter where the young cook, Claude, was stationed. It rolled right in front of Chef Bouche's feet as he was walking unsteadily to the cupboard in search of more butter. Chef Bouche stumbled a bit, nearly tripping on the rolling vegetable.

"Claude! Did _you_-" Chef Bouche couldn't finish his sentence. His expression changed swiftly from irritation to severe pain. He began to gasp, clutching at his chest. Doubling over, he collapsed on the floor.

"Monsieur Bouche!" Chip exclaimed, running to the man who looked to be in absolute agony. His elderly eyes glazed over, and he gasped for air. "Felicity, get your father! Get Master Adam if you can!" The girl obeyed, racing out of the kitchen to the great foyer.

Within a few minutes, she came back with Adam and Cogsworth. Chip, Antoine, and the two other young men working as cooks had managed to carry Monsieur Bouche to the foyer and helped him lie upon a small couch. The man was still having trouble breathing, his hand pressed on his heart. Several other servants heard Felicity's calls for help, and began gathering around Chef Bouche, not knowing what to do.

Renaud and Mirielle were amongst them. Chip's eyes met Renaud's irritably. _All right, Monsieur-Big-Shot, let's see how you perform in an emergency!_ he thought.

Adam rushed to Chef Bouche's side and knelt over him. "Thierry..._Thierry_?" he said in distress. The man seemed to be fading away.

"Renaud! Go to the village to get the doctor! Ride as fast as you can! Chip, you stay by Chef Bouche's side!" Adam ordered.

"Yes, Master Adam!" Renaud replied dutifully. He turned and ran swiftly out of the castle door.

...

_The more humble and subservient they BELIEVE I am, the better I can go forward with the plan. _This was what Renaud kept telling himself as he galloped through chilly winds and sleet, the cold wind biting his nose and cheeks as he descended the hills through the woods. It seemed to take forever, but Renaud reached Molyneux in record time; twenty-five minutes riding the castle's fastest stallion, Leon.

Renaud steered Leon toward the building with the sign _Bertrand LaFontaine, Docteur, Le Medicin. _He was familiar with the place, after all, because he'd had to spend nearly a week there after being shot in the shoulder almost two months ago. He hopped off Leon and burst inside.

"Dr. LaFontaine!" Renaud said, panting. "The castle! The head chef. His heart...a heart attack..."

"I'll be on my way!" shouted Dr. LaFontaine, who was standing over a bed where a young woman was resting, her newborn twin babies nestled in her arms.

"Dr. Baquer, and Mimi- stay with Emilie and her babies," he directed. "It's that stubborn old Thierry! I _told_ him he needed to rest more!" he told the assistant doctor, as well as Mimi, who was serving as a midwife for the multiple birth.

"Oh, no!" Mimi exclaimed, worried as the doctor left. "If something happens to him...poor Gigi! He was her _mentor_!" she fretted. The babies cried, and Mimi took one of them in her arms, so Emilie could nurse the other.

Dr. LaFontaine followed Renaud in his wagon, pulled by a horse that wasn't near as fast as Leon. It took them forty-five minutes to arrive at the castle gate, and even with Chip there to lead the doctor up the invisible stairs, it seemed an eternity for him to find the door.

...

Adam, Belle, Vincent, and Helene were sitting in vigil over Chef Bouche. Adam had dismissed everyone to keep working- cooking dinner and setting the table. The chef would want it that way.

Chef Bouche opened his glassy eyes and fixed them on Adam's. "Master..." he gasped, "write...to...Elodie."

"Elodie? You mean Madame? Your sister?" Adam asked. Madame de la Grande Bouche had retired a few years before. "Yes, of course I will...Thierry...wake up...stay with me! Thierry!"

Chef Bouche was no longer breathing. He was now still, his aged face looking peaceful. Adam felt the man's brow, it was cold to the touch. He gave Belle a pained look. _"Damn!" _he said in despair and frustration.

Belle put her arm around him. "We tried our best," she comforted him.

Renaud burst into the castle foyer with the doctor, and Adam stood to face them. "Gentlemen, it's no use," he said. "It's too late. He's gone."

Dr. LaFontaine's face fell; he knew that there was little he could have done. He knew nothing about how to fix an old heart after it wore itself down. Elixirs, herbs, medicines- it was beyond help. It would likely be a hundred years of medical struggle until cardiac surgery could be successfully performed.

"Could you consult with Monsieur Enterrer? I need to get back to the new babies and mother," he asked of Renaud.

...

Renaud rode more slowly down to Molyneux that evening. Dusk had already fallen; and he still needed to inform the undertaker of Monsieur Bouche's passing, so that a funeral could be prepared for straight away in the morning. He knocked on the man's door, and Denis Enterrer finally answered. He was a strong, wiry middle aged man, adept with a shovel and the dirty work, and gracious and kind in his long career as a funeral director.

"Bonjour...where is my new angel?" he asked, as he always did when being summoned.

"The invisible castle," Renaud told him solemnly. "A talented old servant, bless his soul. So- tomorrow morning?"

"Oui," Monsieur Enterrer replied. "I will round up a crew. We'll be there at the crack of dawn. I am familiar with the royal servants' cemetery up there."

"Merci...good night," Renaud told him politely.

He left then, and realized he didn't care to ride back to the castle. Exhausted from the rides back and forth, he decided to stop and rest at Lefou's Tavern, maybe inquire about spending the night in one of the rooms above it. He'd be up before dawn, and assist the undertaker if he could.

A few tasty apple-flavored ales soon lifted Renaud's spirits. He glanced over to the cozy fireplace near the bar. Above the fireplace, Renaud noticed, the decor had been recently changed. Before, there had been a huge portrait of the legendary hunter Gaston. Now it had been replaced by a beautiful portrait of the royal family- Adam, Belle, Vincent, and Hélene, the four sitting in the rose gardens with the castle's forest in the background on a summer's day. It had likely been painted a few years ago; Vincent and Hélene appeared younger.

Renaud found himself staring at the portrait, an uneasy feeling coming over him. A pang of guilt seemed to squeeze his heart like a vise grip, and it made him wonder how it felt to have a heart attack, like Chef Bouche had suffered. He drank down more apple ale, trying to calm his nerves and force himself to take his eyes off that picture. Adam- his own cousin. Third cousin, but his relation nonetheless. The children...Hélene was such a beautiful girl, just like her mother.

_You're a monster!_ A soft voice that sounded like Mirielle's seemed to whisper deep within Renaud's brain. _You can't do this..._

_NO! _a stronger and angry voice boomed, drowning out the first. Renaud drained his tankard, and tried to clear his mind, keep himself together. He glanced around the tavern, taking it all in. It was Wednesday night now. He had two full days. _Two days,_ and he would not back out.

He saw a few fellows he recognized; Stanley Moreau, his brother Gilles Moreau, and Dick Revelle. He carried his mug over and sat near them.

"Bonjour, Renaud!" greeted Gilles, a local farmer, with a big friendly grin. "Hey, aren't you getting married on Saturday? You should have your bachelor party here Friday night!"

"No, that's all right. I never thought of having one-"

"Well, at least join _my_ family's celebration! Guess what! I'm a Grand-Pere!" Gilles said proudly. "Daughter Emilie just had _twins_!"

"Congratulations!" Renaud said. He didn't want to say he'd already _seen_ the babies earlier, at Dr. LaFontaine's place. "Boys, girls, or one of each?"

"They're girls!" said Gilles. "Don't know what Emilie and Gus want to name them yet. That's Gus, er, Auguste- over there, my son in law." Gilles pointed to a very young man, barely more than twenty, trying to smoke one of the cigars that had been passed around. He was coughing, but laughing and joyful, surrounded by a group of men in work clothes. Stanley, who was sitting with Gilles, Dick, and now Renaud, stood up and went over to the brand-new father, his mug held high.

"Auguste! Have you named your daughters yet?" he asked.

"I think I have an idea. I'd have to run it by Emilie, of course. She's the boss," Auguste replied. The whole tavern erupted in laughter.

"What's your idea?" asked Lefou curiously from his post behind the bar. Henri-Gaston, standing next to his father and towering over him, egged his friend on. "C'mon, Gus, tell us!"

"Well, Emilie sure admires the Princesses," the young man said. "So I was thinking 'Belle,' and 'Hélene.' Would that be respectful, you think?" He seemed unsure; he glanced around the room at all the men for approval. Most of them nodded.

Renaud stood up. "I think they would be honored! I'm here on castle business, and I'll ask them myself tomorrow. I'm sure it's fine," he said. He glanced back over at that portrait of the royal family and felt a heaviness, like a rock of impending doom forming in his stomach, making him feel like vomiting. He quickly sat down again.

"Are you okay?" asked Gilles. "I know we're getting into scary times. I don't like thinking about it..." he trailed off, looking worried.

"You mean the Revolution?"

"No," said Gilles. "Not the Revolution. Long as our Adam and Belle are safe with the invisible castle, we're not worried. Nobody's cutting off anyone's heads around here. But _money's_ about to be tight. It's running out. Scary. We could have a famine just like in Paris!" he explained, fretfully.

"_Famine?_ What are you talking about?" asked Renaud.

"The diamonds are almost gone. Adam's diamonds from the mine, don't you know that?"

"_No_! Who said they're running out?" Renaud asked the man, a sharp tone of anger causing his voice to raise.

"Auguste is one of the diamond miners. He's been laid off, 'cause it's been dug dry," replied Gilles. "Fifteen years or so, we've mined diamonds in Adam's forest for him. He's used the riches to pay King Louis so he can buy his wife her jewels. Adam shares...eh, about thirty percent, with Molyneux. And no taxes for us! So we've always had plenty to eat!" Gilles patted his round stomach. "But the party's over now. Last dig, all they found was a tiny stone, the size of the one on my wife's ring." He used his fingers to indicate a millimeter-sized object.

"The mine's in the forest behind the castle, on the North side, right?" asked Renaud.

"Yup. Don't you know that? You serve them now."

"Yes, I know! It's not far from the servants' cemetery. The Prince will never allow a new dig anywhere _near_ there." Disgruntled, Renaud blew out a breath in a long sigh. "I'm turning in for the night. Speaking of that cemetery, I have to help the undertaker tomorrow morning. That's why I came to town."

"Oh? Who died?"

"The old chef. His ticker gave out. Anyway, is there a room open upstairs? Should I ask the Lefous?"

"All the rooms are open tonight. Twenty livres, you got that?"

"Yes, I do, Monsieur."

...

The next morning, before dawn, Renaud woke early and rode Leon back to the castle, meeting Monsieur Enterrer and his crew of three gravediggers at the castle cemetery. He laboriously helped them dig a new grave for Monsieur Bouche's funeral, slated for eleven-o-clock. Bored and chilly, he dug from six in the morning to nearly eight and was anxious to be done, when Monsieur Enterrer begin shouting. _"What in the world?"_

"What's wrong? Is there water in the grave?" Renaud asked irritably. If he was about to be asked to fetch buckets and haul muddy water out of that hole, he'd be goddamned...

"DIAMONDS! _Mon Dieu_!" There's at least thirty of them! Big ones!" the undertaker exclaimed.

"Well, I'll be!" shouted Renaud, his heart bursting with excitement. A grin flashed over his face; he felt almost giddy. _And_ more certain. The reservations and guilt he'd had last night were now swept away like mere cobwebs. _I'm on my game. And NO one is stopping me._

He quickly pulled his mind out of his thoughts. "I never guessed there'd be any more! Monsieur, take half of them, I insist. Take twelve. _Fifteen._ As a token of our appreciation."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes! Cash them in and pay yourself, your crew, and those miner boys who've been laid off. I met one of them last night! His wife had twin babies. He has mouths to feed."

"Yes- Auguste, my nephew! Well, _merci!_ Thank you for your generosity! But would Prince Adam mind?" Monsieur Enterrer's forehead furrowed in concern.

"Not at all. The rest will be going to his royal treasury or for sale. But you know how he's always shared with you villagers." Renaud said confidently.

Soon, a bounty of thirty-seven diamonds, five of them as large as eggs, were unearthed from the grave which would hold the mortal remains of the beloved head chef. Renaud allowed Monsieur Enterrer to choose fifteen of them, insisting he take the largest to give to Auguste and Emilie and the babies.

After Monsieur Enterrer and his men left for Molyneux, Renaud took off his muddy coat and bundled the twenty-two remaining diamonds inside it. Whistling a happy tune, he made his way inside the invisible castle, his coat held tightly in his arms. He rushed up to his tiny servants' room and stuffed the coat- and diamonds- into a bureau drawer. He would buy a sturdy iron safe at the blacksmith's very soon.

...

The 'celebration of life' for Thierry Bouche, Head Chef of the castle since Adam was a little boy, was bittersweet. Everyone was sad; he would be greatly missed, but the priest, Father Guillaume, comforted the royal family and staff with the assurance that Thierry had lived a full and rich life. Cogsworth and Lumiere stood up and shared some humorous anecdotes about life under the curse; they told how Thierry had been instrumental in scaring away a 'nasty band of scalawags,' though being intentionally discreet. There were a handful of villagers among the mourners. As much as Lumiere wanted to describe a big iron stove erupting in flames, it seemed inappropriate for this day.

After the final farewell at the cemetery, his stone secured and next to that of his long-gone wife and son, everyone ate a light lunch in the dining hall. It consisted partly of some of the croissants and breads that Thierry had begun making with Antoine that Wednesday morning. Some of the servants didn't want to eat them, because once they did, the very last of the cuisine created by the hands of the great Chef Bouche would be gone. His hard-working hands had been put to rest.

Chip and Mirielle spent that evening reminiscing about their childhood again. Chip spoke of how his mother used to tease Chef Bouche, how she would hide all the salt and pepper because she thought he used too much in his dishes.

"So one day, Mama hid the salt and pepper, Bouche couldn't find it, and so he put extra garlic and dried red peppers in the stew. It turned out delicious," said Chip.

"Didn't he thank her for perfecting his recipe?" Mirielle asked.

"Yeah. And he called it 'Provincal _a la_ Emmeline' from then on," Chip replied, smiling at the memory. "Just imagine what's happening in Heaven tonight, Mirielle. Bouche is coming in through those mansion gates up there, and I bet he'll look for Mama. He'll probably yell, 'WHERE'S MY SALT?' as soon as he finds her!"

Mirielle laughed. "And your mother's probably saying, 'Oh, pish-posh, it's _you. _Stop your grousing, there's no salt 'ere.' She'll put tea on for him, too, I'm sure."

Chip laughed harder, so hard that tears of amusement mixed with a grief for both Chef Bouche and his mother formed in his eyes, and he wiped them with a grin. "Before my mother met Maurice, I think ol' Bouche might have fancied her for a little bit. But _she_ didn't notice, from what I remember."

"I think he _did,_ when I think of it. He was so focused, such a workaholic, I think because his wife and son died before the curse. But he had a soft spot for your mother," said Mirielle. "He didn't really _dislike_ Maurice, but- didn't he used to kind of roll his eyes whenever Maurice left the kitchen and mutter 'Crazy old inventor!' to himself?"

"Yeah. All the time," said Chip, with a chuckle.

"He was jealous of Maurice! That's why." Mirielle said, her eyes widening. "He was _decent_ about it though. Nice enough to make a wonderful banquet for their wedding. I admire him for that, now that I think of it."

"Stubborn old codger kept his feelings to himself, if he _did_ like her."

"They were such good friends, at any rate. They were kind of like, well- us," Mirielle said in a gentle voice.

"Yeah." Chip swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm glad you laughed at my dumb crack about them in heaven. Anyone else would think it's corny. Well, maybe Belle wouldn't, But I'm glad _you_ thought it was funny." He blinked awkwardly. "Sorry. Sentimental. I miss Chef Bouche, and it's making me miss my _mother_ even more today, just thinking of..."

Mirielle had taken hold of his hand, squeezing it. "It's all right."

She kept hold of his hand, and Chip wished the world would stand still as he squeezed hers back. From outside the parlor where they sat on the couch, they could hear Cogsworth's steps echoing past. He came in the room, stumbling a little. His eyes were reddened.

"Good evening, Chip. Mirielle." he said in an attempt to be cheerful.

"You okay, Cogsworth?" said Chip, his brow furrowed. "You...look like you just lost one of your best friends."

Cogsworth's sad face brightened into an amused smile, and before he knew it, he was laughing, as giddy as a child. "Ha, ha-_ha_! Oh, Chip! Good heavens, hee-_hee_! You, oh my, you-_ha-ha!_ You are so like your mother, you are!"

"Um...Cogsworth, have you been...into your secret 'medicine' cupboard again?" Chip asked him in concern. He could definitely smell either brandy or cognac on the majordomo's breath.

"Well...yes," Cogsworth said sheepishly. "It was just one of those nights. But...don't tell Pippa or Felicity. It's been a dreadful, stressful week. Not only Thierry, God rest his soul, but the meetings I've had with Master Adam, well, we've been over the figures and numbers, and I've been forced to _tighten the belt,_ as we say, which explains all the _potatoes,_ and as much as we can, we-"

He stopped, looked Chip and Mirielle in the eye, and sighed. "The diamond mine is depleted, and the palace is going bankrupt," he spat out.

"It'll all work out in the end. Cogsworth. It always does," encouraged Chip. "Could we walk with you upstairs, Sir? You..._really_ ought to call it a night."

"Yes, Cogsworth, Cheery-o, up to bed you go!" sang Mirielle. She and Chip walked on each side of Cogsworth up the stairs. He furrowed his brow at both of them.

"I feel like our roles have been reversed," he said sheepishly.

As they reached the second floor of the East Wing, they heard men's laughter coming from one of the rooms. As they passed by the partially opened door of Renaud's room, they could hear Antoine laughing.

"The crotchety old cracker's _finally dead!_ Pour me another, Renaud, you're looking at Head Chef!" Antoine exclaimed in triumph.

Chip and Mirielle glanced over at Cogsworth. His face was beginning to turn a deep shade of maroon. _Speaking of a crotchety old cracker,_ Chip thought...

Cogsworth burst into the room. Renaud and Antoine spilled their drinks, startled. Antoine's face blanched, his eyes wide.

"Antoine!" Cogsworth bellowed. "I heard _every word._ You can _forget_ Head Chef! I am writing up your termination letter at _once!_ I am informing Master Adam of your disrespectful, cruel attitude, and it's eighty percent certain you'll be dismissed as of tomorrow!"

"But...but I was just-"

"Rude, disrespectful, with no sense of decency and consideration. Thierry was one of my best friends, a chef of irreplaceable talent. As for _you_, you perform well, but you have an attitude problem. We will _not_ have a Head Chef of such character!"

"But- where would I work, then?" Antoine said in an indignant half-whine. He _was_ rude, but he was also young and foolish. Chip and Mirielle felt sorry for him. Perhaps Cogsworth's wrath would cool down tomorrow.

"Go down to the village. I'm quite certain that Gigi's Café could use a _fry cook_!" Cogsworth exclaimed.

"He's right," said Renaud, looking at Antoine in disapproval. "Shouldn't have talked about Chef Bouche that way."

Chip and Mirielle looked at Antoine with pity, then at each other. Mirielle took the aging majordomo's arm after shooting an apologetic glance at Renaud.

"_Bon nuit,_ Renaud, I love you."

"Love you too...my bride," Renaud grinned, while Chip said nothing and focused on settling the older man's anger.

"Sir, let's turn in, we'll do this termination business tomorrow, don't you think?" Chip urged Cogsworth. They finally pulled him from Renaud's room and to his own room. The exhausted and grieved man shut the door, and as Chip and Mirielle stood there, they heard snoring in a matter of five minutes.

"Poor Cogsworth. It's been a long, sad day for all of us," Mirielle said to Chip.

...

_A.N.- Thanks go out to The Green Archer, for her beta/plotting help. :)_


	21. Renaud and Mirielle, part 2

Chapter 21- Renaud and Mirielle, Part 2

…

Saturday turned out to be cold and brisk, tiny snowflakes filling the cloudy sky. Mirielle, the bride of the day, rode in Adam and Belle's covered carriage down to Molyneux, a warm cape over her wedding gown.

Lumiere and Cogsworth were at her side as the men who would 'give her away.' Her young bridesmaids Chandelle and Felicity were in the back seat, their good dresses covered in warm blankets.

"I'd give anything to be a bride, going to the chapel to meet a handsome groom," Felicity said wistfully.

"So would I," said Chandelle, looking forlorn. "But," she said, sitting up straight and putting on a smile, "I am _not_ going to let Antoine and his problems ruin my day! Felicity, look at us. We're single maidens, all decked up in our best velvet gowns, and there will be a banquet and dance! The world is...our scallop! Isn't that what you always say, Papa?"

Lumiere grinned, shaking his head. "Actually, it is- 'the world is our oyster,' _ma petite._"

"Oh, okay, Papa. Mirielle...are you nervous?" Chandelle asked. Studying Mirielle's expression, she was curious as to why she didn't look ecstatic. _She_ would be.

"No...all right, maybe. I'm looking forward to this day being over, perhaps Renaud will settle down a little. He's been acting strange," she told them.

"Explain 'strange' to us, dear," replied Cogsworth.

"When we first met, I thought he was like _you,_ Lumiere," Mirielle explained, turning to face him. "Charming, suave, and always happy, even though one of the villagers had just shot him in the shoulder! Now, he's irritable, secretive, always trying to go off alone, or running around _creating_ work even when the work is _done_ for the day. I mean, it was kind and helpful of him to do all that he did when Monsieur Bouche passed away, but I've wanted to spend more time with him _alone_ to talk. He will be my husband today, and I feel as if...I only know _half_ of him."

"He is _nothing_ like me, then!" said Lumiere. "I would have moved the _stars_ to romance my lady during our betrothal. But then again, Babette and I had our _own_ rocky beginnings, _c'est la vie!_ We turned out just fine, though," he made sure to add.

"Some men are of the mindset that they have to _prove_ themselves to impress their lady. For a lot of us, it _is_ about our work," Cogsworth replied, trying to be understanding.

"I guess you're right," Mirielle replied in consideration. "Renaud feels down on himself, because of the circumstances of his birth. He told me some things...well, those things are private. He didn't want me to tell anyone, and he wants to just forget about it."

"He should get better, Mirielle, after a romantic honeymoon vacation!" said Lumiere. "It is what you both _need!_ Why don't the two of you spend time in Molyneux if you don't want to travel?" he asked.

"I'll ask him. He seems to like spending time doing errands and business in the village. Just not with _me_," she said in frustration.

...

The wedding chapel, St. Lucien's Church, was packed with castle staff who took up most of the pews. There was little room for the villagers as guests inside the church, so most waited outside under a canopy to congratulate the bride and groom when they came out. A few ladies who were friends of Mirielle's- Gigi, Sophie, the seamstress Mme. Couture- were seated in a back pew. The priest, Father Guillaume, was at the altar standing solemnly, candles lit.

Renaud wore his new suit- a bright blue cutaway coat and long trousers with gold trim, a gold-tone vest, and lacy white cravat. He carried a decorative cane in his hand which gave him the look of debonair and sophistication. When the villagers had seen him arrive in this uniform, there were a few raised eyebrows and critical whispers amongst them. It just seemed too ostentatious for a servant, too emulating of Prince Adam's uniforms to the point where it seemed, well, crass and tacky.

Louis Violoniste, a talented castle violinist, raised his instrument and begin to play a hymnal. Bridesmaid Chandelle walked down the aisle escorted by her colleague Claude, the clumsy cook whom Antoine had often berated. Young Claude was in seventh heaven for the chance to walk at Chandelle's side in lieu of Antoine.

Next, Felicity was assigned to walk with- to her embarrassment- Henri-Gaston. He gave her a friendly grin and held his arm out to her. Felicity blushed as she took his arm and followed the first pair down the aisle.

Henri's little brother Jean was the ring bearer. The flower girl was nine-year-old Claire, daughter of castle maid Pauline and her husband Michel, the royal ostler. The two children caused the ladies in the church to gush_ 'aww!'_ and _'how precious!'_ as they skipped to the altar together. Claire's velvet dress was a miniature of Chandelle's, a bright Christmas red. The ring pillow Jean held was made of the same red velvet, as was his bow tie.

Violinist Louis's hymn segued into the sweet notes of _Here Comes the Bride._ Mirielle walked slowly, between Cogsworth and Lumiere. For the two men to give her away seemed perfectly fitting; they had been the chief father figures in her life. The congregation stood, all beaming at her. A few lady servants whispered about how young and beautiful she looked in her simple and elegant gown.

She took Renaud's hand, a blush coloring her face. He appeared nervous and uptight. When she squeezed his hand and looked up into his eyes, whispering 'We'll get through it,' he seemed to relax and his charming grin returned.

They took the vows, lit the candles, and after a half-hour of ceremony, Renaud bent down to take the rings from the tiny pillow Jean held. Jean accidentally tipped the pillow, and the rings fell and rolled down the aisle. The crowd of servants laughed. Jean said 'Oops!' and scrambled to get them. Pippa soon found Mirielle's tiny ring, which had rolled beneath her pew.

After the laughter had settled and both rings were retrieved, Renaud confidently put Mirielle's ring on her finger, and Mirielle placed the larger ring on his.

Father Guillaume announced "You may kiss the bride." Renaud did as such; a tight embrace and a chaste kiss. Mirielle closed her eyes, feeling secure, confident, and...happy?

She wasn't sure about 'happy' yet. That would take time. That would happen after she and Renaud actually had some _quality_ time together, could bond and laugh together, talk together about the future, like they _had_ done for a short time weeks ago, after Belle's birthday ball.

They hadn't done much since. Renaud had been much too occupied and busy to court her, but she could understand.

She could wait a few hours to be happy. _I hope Chip decided to come after all,_ she thought. After their kiss, she looked among the people gathered in the church, hoping to see Chip there, smiling and clapping. He was absent.

...

Chip was in the parlor with Adam and Belle. "It sure is quiet around here with everyone gone," he said.

"It is, but I enjoy the quiet," said Belle. She was curled up on her favorite settee, reading her book.

Adam gave Chip a sheepish smile. "I don't like the quiet and emptiness either. It gives me bad memories," he admitted.

"Would you like me to get you anything?" Chip asked the Prince and Princess. "A spot of tea? I'll have dinner set in the dining room at exactly five."

"I'd like that, Chip. Thank you," Belle said, taking her eyes out of her book for a moment. Chip left the parlor into the great foyer, which usually echoed with the voices of maids and servants running up and down the stairs. Today, it was completely silent.

The silence reminded him of his childhood, of the days of the curse, when there was little to do but sit in the gloom. The spacious castle with its gargoyles and dusty tapestries had bothered little Chip. He told his mother he wanted to start sleeping in the cozy cupboard, with a group of soul-less little teacups which the Enchantress had made move. He called them his 'brothers and sisters,' after some time.

Chip liked mornings the best in those days. When it was morning, the sun would cast bright rays through the tall dining room window and the place wouldn't be so gloomy. From his spot in the cupboard, Chip would watch the plate-maids and the fork-maids and spoon-maids setting the table, in hopes that the Master would come and eat his meat in the royal dining room like he used to.

At age eleven, Beast would still eat in the dining room every day, wanting cooked meat. By age thirteen, Beast had learned to be a hunter, going to the woods to find rabbits, boar, and deer to slay and eat, with the help of his four enchanted weapons Luc, Noel, Jean and Yann. Chef Bouche, the oven, would ask the Master if he'd like to have the meat cooked, but the adolescent Beast would just glare at him and growl.

By age nineteen, Beast never went into the dining room anymore. He would either be out hunting his raw meat, or in his secluded bedroom in the West Wing tower. He rarely spoke, except to yell orders at Cogsworth, Lumiere, and Chip's mother. His method of movement had gradually changed- from the upright walk of a human boy, to crouching like an animal on all fours.

Meanwhile, in the dining room and kitchen, the servant-objects would spend the daytime pretending that there was still a human schedule. A breakfast, lunch and dinner-time would be had, even when there was no actual food to be cooked and served anymore.

Chip found another child-object to play with and talk to in that dining room. Mirielle was a pretty silver serving spoon who wore a yellow bow around her-not 'neck,' but the place where handle met spoon-head. She was bossy sometimes, but she was his only playmate.

She could turn graceful cartwheels and somersaults, and so Chip wanted to copy her. He tried a somersault perched on Sophie's chair-cushion for padding, but he fell off, suffering a little break. Mirielle had cheered him up, telling him 'he looked just like his nickname now.' That made him feel brave and proud, and caused Mama to not be quite as angry.

He wore the 'chip' with honor afterward, and as a human child, it remained as a chip in his front baby tooth.

It was all so long ago and surreal, but since young children are resilient and become accustomed to the world around them, Chip was a happy child.

This day- as a man, he walked into the dining room and tried to imagine it so much bigger, the way it was then. He began to serve up the already-prepared dinner for just five people. While setting the table, he picked up one of a set of silver serving spoons. Chip had the urge to find a piece of yellow ribbon and tie it around the 'neck' of the utensil.

He began to laugh out loud- a laugh of bittersweet joy, a sort of acceptance. Holding the spoon in his hand, he decided to think of her in this way.

There were two versions of Mirielle in his mind and heart. The first was his childhood best friend and playmate, who for a time had been that pretty spoon with the yellow bow and little-girl face. Together, they were twin souls. Cup and spoon. The second version was, of course, the lovely grown woman she was now.

The first was the Mirielle that Chip could _always_ have. They shared a childhood, a castle and a curse. The second Mirielle was the one that Chip could _not_ have, because she was Renaud's.

He put the spoon in his pocket and went back to Adam and Belle's dining room.

...

Molyneux was in the midst of a happy celebration. The canopy was set up over picnic tables full of bounteous drinks and foods. Louis's violin was accompanied by the village's quartet of a French horn player, trumpeter, tuba player and flutist, playing upbeat music. Renaud and Mirielle danced the first dance alone and then everyone else was invited to join in.

"Mirielle, would you mind if I left the party for an hour or so?" Renaud asked her as they danced their third song. "I have to go and get a surprise for you."

"What surprise? Where do you need to go?"

"Oh, just somewhere," he said tensely, but when he saw the joy fade from his new wife's eyes, he quickly stroked her cheek and grinned.

"Do you really want me to tell you where? Delphine's cottage. Something magical."

"Oh...well, all right," Mirielle replied, somewhat disappointedly. "A magical gift would be nice, but I'd rather have you _here_. Please don't take long."

"I won't. I promise I will be back, darling!" Renaud let go of Mirielle, and with a bounce in his step he danced through the crowd, slapping the hands of other party-goers. He left the reception canopy in a graceful run, looking like the busy bee he always was. Lefou saw him running towards the stable behind the tavern.

"Where ya going, Renaud? It's your wedding!"

"It's a surprise for my bride! Be right back! Say, is there enough wine and ale to last?"

"Uh, I _hope_ so."

"Don't worry about it!" he called to Lefou as he secured Leon's saddle, making sure the horse had taken some oats and water. The horse nickered, happy to see his rider and ready for a good run. Renaud reached into the side pouch of the saddle to make sure the thing he needed was still there. It was.

He was soon riding at full gallop out of the village and through the forest. He neared Delphine's cottage, but raced right past it. His destination was the castle.

...

"Dinner is served!" Chip told the royal family as cheerfully as he could, beckoning them to come and sit at their places at the dining room table. The clock on the mantle chimed five times as Chip took the lid off the silver platter with a flourish. _"Voilà!" _he sang, imitating Lumiere's cheerful enthusiasm.

"Wow! Potato soup! Who would've guessed?" exclaimed Vincent. "Especially considering we had it on Wednesday, _and_ yesterday-"

"Vincent," Adam said sternly, "That will be enough!"

Vincent frowned, and didn't say another word. He glanced across the table at Hélene. She rolled her eyes at him. For several minutes, the whole family was silent as they begin to eat the bland, somewhat watered-down soup.

"Adam- I'm going to Paris again in the spring." Belle said after a while.

_"What_?!_"_ He glared at her. "To the _orphanage_? It's no use. That place is probably shut down, thanks to all the chaos there with the Revolution. Those children? Most of them are dead by now. And it is just too dangerous out there for you," Adam said darkly, his eyes cast down on his plate in gloom.

"I _have_ to find out what happened."

"Why are you so concerned about children not your own? I need you- _we_ need you here with your own children!"

Belle looked at her son and daughter guiltily. "I need time out of this castle, Adam," she said in determination. "It's hard to stand. I feel helpless to _do_ anything here. Every day is the same as the day before, and I could be _there_ instead, seeing what I can do as 'Private Citizen' Belle DeFleur for the people in despair. Perhaps Vincent and Hélene could come with me, just like Vincent had suggested once."

"Maybe...if Papa doesn't mind," Vincent replied.

Belle brightened, trying to avoid Adam's angry glare. "And Chip, would _you_ like to come along? I might need your help. You were there last summer."

"Well...Mistress Belle, I don't know about _that_, I..."

"_See_?" Adam said, making a sweeping hand gesture toward Chip. "_He_ says it's dangerous. Belle! I understand how you feel helpless, but my answer to all of it is _no_."

"Papa," said Hélene, "please don't quarrel. I hear footsteps, someone's back from the wedding."

Footsteps, running ones, were noisily echoing through the foyer and growing closer. The next moment, Renaud burst into the dining room, his cravat loose and uneven, sweat dripping from his brow. His face was reddened from the cold winds outside, and one hand was in his coat pocket.

"Bonjour, Renaud!" Adam greeted him cordially. "Congratulations! I guess you and Mirielle decided to-"

"STAY RIGHT THERE!" Renaud shouted. He pulled his pistol from his pocket, raised it and aimed directly at Adam's chest.

"Don't _anyone_ get up! I will shoot, I swear to God!"

Hélene burst into tears. Renaud aimed the pistol away from Adam and at the frightened young girl.

"Protected from the Revolution, are you? Hidden by a _witch's magic_? Well, I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Cousin Adam. Because I'm about to start a revolution right _here_! MY OWN!"

Adam rose to stand from his chair, enraged. "What are you _talking_ about? Are you a..."

"This castle is MINE!" Renaud hissed, aiming the gun back at Adam and stepping closer to him. His demented expression marred his handsome face, and made Belle's, Vincent's and Hélene's blood run cold. Belle had seen this kind of look on a man's face once before, long ago. Chip was completely stunned, his face pale.

"I am the _Duke_ Renaud de Mériadac. Son of Duke René-Louis de Mériadac, your cousin! His father before him- my grandfather- was _Prince_ Louis-Charles, the original _owner_ of this castle! And _I'm_ the rightful heir. Not you! With this magic I will _survive _this Revolution- ALONE!" He waved the pistol like a madman.

"You _can't-_" Adam yelled. He and Chip both stood, preparing to fight, but the movement incensed the young man further.

_"TIME TO DIE, Prince Adam! And ALL of you!_" Renaud proclaimed.

"_NO_!" Chip screamed in horror as Renaud took aim at his Master's heart, and pulled the trigger.


	22. The Enchanted Rose

Chapter 22- The Enchanted Rose

...

Renaud pulled the trigger once, twice. It made a clicking sound- but no shot was fired.

His face paled as he saw both Adam and Chip recovering from their shock. Both men rushed toward him. Adam hurled himself across the table with the speed of a panther, breaking glasses and cups, soup spilling from bowls. Renaud was knocked backwards and wrestled to the ground by both Adam and Chip before Adam wrestled the pistol out of his grip.

"Vincent! TAKE IT!" Adam shouted at his son as the threw the gun away from his would-be assassin. Vincent ran to pick it up from the floor. Curiously, he held the pistol in his hands and aimed it upwards out the door to the foyer. He pulled the trigger; a loud shot rang out. Vincent could see shards of marble and plaster falling from the spot where the bullet had pierced the high ceiling.

"It works now..." he said, shuddering.

"Let...me...GO!" Renaud grunted as Adam and Chip held him tightly. Adam pulled back his fist and punched Renaud squarely in the jaw. "You rank, cowardly TRAITOR!" the Prince growled.

Belle, completely stunned and paralyzed by what had transpired in the last minute, finally found her voice. "Vincent and Helene, please run outside!" The two siblings quietly left the room, Vincent still holding the gun.

"Chip! Help me tie him up!" Adam shouted. Chip went to the window where he noticed a length of braided rope used to tie the brocade curtains back. Grabbing a sharp knife from the dining room's cupboard, he cut a long section. Renaud was trying to kick and fight off the Prince, but Adam was larger and heavier in size. He held the younger man firmly down, rolling him to a facedown position and jerking his arms to his back. Chip firmly tied his wrists together with rope. Renaud kicked and continued to fight his captors, but Chip took the other curtain tieback and used it to bind Renaud's ankles together. The man, groaning in pain from the old shoulder injury now irritated, was subdued.

"I think we've got him, Master..." Chip said, his brow sweaty and eyes wide with shock.

Belle, relieved to see that their assassin was bound and immoble, glanced out the doorway to make certain that her children were safely out of the castle. As she gazed out into the halls, she could see tiny, glowing red sparks floating like dust. She walked out of the dining room and saw thousands more glowing sparks, growing in brilliance at the stairway to the West Wing.

"Adam, come look at this," Belle called out to her husband.

"Chip, watch over him," Adam commanded. "Do not let him move ONE muscle!" He went out of the dining room to join Belle, where she walked through the foyer, following the glowing mist of red. She started to walk up the stairway and Adam followed her. The mist of red sparks seemed to be flowing, emanating from their own master bedroom.

Belle and Adam entered their bedchambers, which was lit in a brilliant, shimmering red glow. A lovely smell permeated the room; the fragrance of a flower. The source of the glowing red light was the Eternally Enchanted Rose, which sat on Belle's vanity dresser in a crystal vase. The Rose was bursting with light which had begun to flow from it, permeating the entire castle.

Adam glanced at Belle in realization. "Delphine. _She_ did this," he said quietly.

"I'm not sure of that...we never _asked_ her to perform any other charms, Adam. We need to find her, though." Belle gently touched and smelled the soft, fragrant petals of the twenty-year-old bloom, still alive and enchanted with some great, powerful charm.

"I _think_ the magic of the Rose caused Renaud's gun to fail," Belle tried to reason. "There was something Fabien said to us...long ago, after you gave it to me as a Christmas gift. I just can't remember what it was."

"Let's find both of them- Fabien and Delphine," Adam declared. "We need _all_ the help we can find if there are more people out there who want to harm us!"

The Prince and Princess left their room and descended quickly down the staircase. To their surprise, Delphine and Fabien were already in the castle. The two Enchanters stood in the doorway, Vincent and Helene looking amazed as they stood behind them.

"Prince Adam!" Delphine called out to him, overjoyed. "Princess Belle! You're both safe."

Fabien smiled contentedly as he gazed at the red sparks floating through the air, now beginning to dissipate away. After a minute, only a few remained at the top of the staircase. Like the embers of fireworks exposed to cool air, they burned out and disappeared, one by one.

"Delphine," Fabien said pointedly to his fellow enchanter, "Can you explain what just happened here?"

"The man who wanted to kill the family failed. It was the most wonderful stroke of luck I've ever seen," Delphine replied.

"Luck?" Fabien asked. He shook his head and frowned.

"Delphine, was it _you_ who put another charm on the castle?" Adam asked her. "Did _you_ just cause Renaud's gun to jam, to save our lives?"

"No. I didn't," Delphine said, shaking her head in confusion. "Ever since I performed the spell to conjure the apparition-" Her eyes widened in guilt as she beheld Adam, who did not know about her conjuring of the Beast's image. "I have kept my hands _off_ this castle, and have done nothing since. Believe me."

"Master Adam, I have undone the Invisibility Charm on the castle, just a moment ago. You will not be needing it any longer," said Fabien.

Delphine looked at him in indignation. "Why did you lift _my_ spell?" she demanded. She became more angry as Fabien gave her an unaffected smile.

Adam looked at Fabien alarmed. "Are you certain? There could be other enemies, where Renaud came from..."

"Prince Adam, Princess Belle, please show me to where you keep your Enchanted Rose. I want to see it." Fabien insisted. All of them went up the staircase together, to the West Wing and into Belle and Adam's master bedroom, where the Rose sat in its crystal vase, looking like an ordinary, freshly blooming rose again. Fabien approached the vase slowly. With an expression of reverence, he gently took the Rose out and cradled it in his hands, putting it to his nose to inhale its fragrance. He held it close to his chest, as if it were the greatest treasure on earth.

"Belle, Adam...the honest truth is this. You never needed Delphine to put the castle under a spell to hide it. You've had the protection here, all along."

Delphine furiously opened her mouth to protest. "But Fabien- _you're_ the one who led Chip to my private cottage, where I was living in peace and quiet! _You_ sought me out in order to help save the family through MY powerful magic! And all this time, I wasn't even _needed_?"

"It is all right, Delphine," Fabien said in a calm voice. "I'm not angry with you. None of us are angry with you. I wanted to you realize that you still have a lot of self-pride left in you. I wanted you to see the truth."

Delphine glared at Fabien. "The_ truth_?" she spat. "I was never _needed?_ What do you mean? If it wasn't for _me_, those revolutionaries would have found the castle! Found the_ family!_ I performed that spell on the castle! Not _you_! And not that _rose_ you hold in your hands! Why such devotion over just a mere.._.rose_?" she scoffed.

"You still haven't figured it out." Fabien said quietly, still gently gripping the Rose.

Belle, Adam and the children were confused by the quarrel that was starting to erupt between the two Enchanted people. What did this rose that always sat quietly on Belle's dresser have to do with anything? It had only been a nice gift from long ago, something pretty that decorated the bedroom. Oddly, it had never wilted in twenty years. Why was it such a matter of importance?

"The great power to protect your family's well being, to save your lives- has been here _all along._ It has been here ever since I gave it to you, Adam and Belle. It is the Rose itself," said Fabien.

"It has?" Belle said in surprise, glancing at Adam. "Wait...I _do_ remember what you had told me, Adam, when you gave it to to me for Christmas. It was twenty years ago, but you had said...that if we owned this rose, it...would never wither or die, and we would be blessed with joy and peace for the rest of our lives. I_ think_ that's what you said."

"Belle," Fabien said, "That was correct, but Master Adam- you did not tell your wife _everything_ that I had said about it when I gave it to you. I said that the Enchanted Rose would bring joy, peace, _and_ protection from all evil and harm, for the rest of your natural lives. Somehow, you did not remember to tell Belle that last part."

"Yes, I did forget to say that," Adam said. "Because I thought it sounded too incredible to believe! How can a_ rose_ protect us from evil and harm? I spent ten years living in dread of a rose. It was the constant reminder of my curse! And this rose saved our lives?"

"Yes- it _did_," said Fabien. "The magic in the Rose is very powerful. The moment that real danger came to the family, the power of the Rose stopped that man's gun from firing, and you were able to take the weapon away."

"Fabien- why didn't you tell_ me_ that they had protection from a rose?" demanded Delphine. She felt fooled, tricked.

"Because I wanted you to discover that for yourself," said Fabien. "Look at this Rose, Delphine. Hold it in your hands. Have you ever, in your life, seen a rose like it?"

"Yes, I have!" Delphine said irritably. "Of _course_ I've seen Enchanted Roses like it! My father Quentin had many of them. He gave them to me to use for a lure to cast curses. He wanted me to use these Roses, to trick mortals like Prince Adam in order to be cursed. He used Enchanted Roses that looked just like this one for his Dark Magic!"

"Just like the one that was a timepiece for Prince Adam. The one that lost its petals and was to die when Adam reached his twenty-first birthday without finding someone to love him- correct?" Fabien demanded.

"Yes," admitted Delphine.

"And that was one of the most vile and evil things that Quentin ever did," said Fabien, his eyes welling with emotion. "He defiled our pure Enchanted Roses- the ones that are made to ensure life, peace, and joy- and he created false, Dark ones that led to despair and death!" Fabien cried. "I may as well tell you now, about my past, and your father's past. Quentin and I were actually friends when we were boys. We went to school together."

"You and my father? _Friends_?" Delphine said incredulously.

"Yes. As boys and youth, we were. We were both talented magical students. But Quentin became jealous of my family, and of me. Le Grande Merlin, the great leader of the Enchanted people- chose me and my young lady friend Aurelie-Marie, who became my wife, to be the only Enchanters allowed to make and distribute the genuine, real Enchanted Roses. Every genuine Enchanted Rose on earth was magically reproduced from the original- from ancient times. They were always very special and powerful."

"My father was very protective of his Roses, just as you seem to be with that one," said Delphine.

Fabien continued his story. "Quentin became more and more involved with the dark side of magic. Somehow, he was able to take my wife's Rose, tamper with it, turn a Charm to a Curse and create False Roses, holding spells which caused harm. It was his way to avenge my wife and I. And...without the protection, we lost our son Bastien in battle."

"I'm terribly, terribly sorry for your loss, Monsieur LaBarre. It is true that my father did those things," said Delphine. "And the fact was that all the roses looked exactly the same! Appearances on the outside are deceiving."

"He used to ask you to give other Enchanted people his Roses as gifts, didn't he? People thinking they would receive a wonderful gift of blessing, and they ended up with a curse, seeing the Rose lose its petals and bad things start happening to them?"

"Yes, he did, when he wasn't telling me to curse mortals. He hated mortals more than he hated _you_, it seemed," replied Delphine.

Meanwhile, Adam, who had been standing there listening with Belle and the children, finally lost his patience with this strange conversation about roses, dark magic, and other such nonsense between the two Enchanters. "Excuse me! But_ how_ will this help us? This Rose that Belle has owned for twenty years- is it a good one, or an evil one, then?" he demanded.

"It is a good one. Belle- its petals have never fallen, after twenty years, correct?" Fabien asked the Princess.

"Yes..." said Belle. She reached out to touch this rose that seemed so precious to the man. "This was all we needed?"

"_Oui,_ Mistress Belle. It is all you have ever needed. Delphine, I wanted _you_ to discover this. I know your father was wrong, but now you have the opportunity to do right and to undo his evil deeds and clear your family name. You were deceived by him. As a young girl, Delphine, you had only known and seen False Roses in your life. Now, I am giving you the _real, pure_ one. Belle- I hope you don't mind, I have the ability to create many more."

Belle nodded. "I don't mind at all," she said. This lesson that Fabien wanted to teach Delphine seemed very important.

Fabien held the Rose out to Delphine for her to hold, as a friendly gesture of peace between the two former enemies. "My gift to you, Delphine. Do you believe in it?" he asked her.

"Yes. I believe in it...I do now. I had to _see_ the way it saved the family today, but now that I've seen it, I _believe_." She took the Rose in her hand, grasping it gently. "I ask everyone to forgive me for my pride and vanity. I'm _still_ like my father in many ways. Even prison didn't take away my desire for power," she said regretfully.

Fabien smiled at her, proud of what she had realized. "Very good. We all forgive you, Mademoiselle Delphine. Now, take out your magic wand."

"My wand? All right..." Delphine took her wand out of her cloak pocket.

"Cast the _Multiply_ spell upon the Rose." Fabien instructed. Delphine pointed her wand at the Rose, and said, _'Multiplier!" _In an instant, two dozen Roses were in her arms, where only one had been a moment before.

Fabien was so delighted, he almost began to laugh. "Very good! Now, Prince Adam and Princess Belle, you may still keep one, of course." He took one Rose from the huge bouquet and gave it to Belle. "For the rest, here is where the joy begins. We will keep multiplying these Enchanted Roses, and we will give them away, as _free gifts_ of joy, peace and protection to everyone!"

Adam and Belle smiled at each other. "That's a wonderful idea!" Belle exclaimed. She took a few from Delphine's arms and handed them to Vincent and Helene.

"Let's go to the village! We can give them as gifts!" exclaimed Helene. "Oh, no...poor Mirielle. How are we going to explain...Renaud?"

Adam and Belle looked at each other grimly. They headed back to the dining room, where Chip still held Renaud, tied up in ropes under his watchful guard.

"Let me go! Your Highness, forgive me, I'll do _anything_ to have your favor back! Have mercy!" Renaud begged as he lay on the floor. Chip sat near him calmly, cross legged. Adam stared down at the assassin in disgust.

"Do you know what can happen to you if the _village_ gets word of what you have done?" Adam bellowed at him. "They could string you up on a _gallows_! The penalty for treason against the Prince is _still_ death by hanging in Lorraine-Alsace province, according to law. Revolution or not!"

"Please...no..." Renaud groaned. The poor man was starting to cry.

Delphine and Fabien came into the dining room. "What do you plan to do with him, Your Highness?" Delphine asked.

Adam stared down at the whimpering Renaud, then glanced at Delphine. "The villagers will have him executed if they find out."

Chip spoke up. "Mademoiselle Delphine- is it possible that you could..." He stood and went to Delphine, whispering something in her ear. Delphine's eyes widened; she shook her head. "I'm not allowed."

"Yes, you may," said Fabien. "I'll break your probation for this _one time_." He smiled at her, then looked to Adam and Belle. "Your Highnesses, is it all right with you?"

"Very well," Adam said. Belle nodded.

Delphine walked over to the terrified Renaud, tied up on the floor.

"Who are you?" he groaned at her.

"Young man, I am an Enchantress. This gentleman, Fabien, and I have been protecting their Royal Highnesses with powerful magic. You deserve punishment for your deed. There is only _one_ way I can think of to spare you from what your penalty will be if the people know of your attempt to murder this family!"

"Then _do_ it!" Renaud screamed. "_Please_!"

"Very well then," Delphine said. She pointed her wand at the terrified man. "_Objecter!_" she exclaimed.

Little white sparks surrounded Renaud; he levitated in the air. A moment later, a shovel- just like the one Renaud had used to help dig the diamonds out of Monsieur Bouche's grave- lay in his place.

The shovel was animated; moving. It had a humanlike face on its broad end, a face that somehow resembled Renaud's.

"What have you _done_ to me?" the Enchanted Object bawled.

...


	23. An Object of Scorn, and Christmas Roses

Chapter 23- An Object of Scorn, and Christmas Roses

...

The Enchantress gazed down at Renaud, the sentient shovel, with pity on her face. "I had thought for a moment about giving you a form of a Beast," she told him. "But...I wanted you to be useful as well as having you humbled, Renaud. You will have plenty of jobs to do around these castle grounds. After you have done some good, honest work for ten years, Fabien and I will re-visit you. If you are reformed and will cause no more harm to others, you _may_ be turned human again."

"No! No, _no_!" the shovel lamented. "I cannot_ live_ like this! I am a Royal Duke! I lived as a servant my entire _life, _when my birthright was to be a noble!"

"You should have thought of that _before_ you concocted your murderous plan!" Adam said to him angrily. "I know _exactly_ the job for you. You can go to Michel, the ostler. He could definitely use you around the horse stables!"

"Or," Belle suggested, "you could help dig for diamonds in the forest, to help provide for the villagers and everyone in the castle."

Renaud was in despair as he looked up at the Prince and Princess, at the majestic castle which could have been his today, but was stolen from his grasp by these meddling..._magic people_.

"What about Mirielle?" Hélene asked, looking at Renaud's new form with a mixture of relief and pity. "She needs to know that she's, unfortunately- married to a _shovel_."

"That_ is_ a problem," Adam replied, rubbing his forehead. He tried to stifle a smile, thinking about Lumiere and Cogsworth's reaction to this. He honestly couldn't wait to see the look on Cogsworth's face when he saw him.

"It's going to be an awful thing for us to tell her. How will she _believe_ us?" Hélene asked. Vincent nodded, his eyes wide.

"I think she will be less shocked than you think, Hélene," said Chip. He looked down at Renaud again and his expression turned to disgust. "You just ruined your chance to marry the most wonderful girl ever! You threw your chances for a good life away, to try to take Master Adam and Belle's castle for yourself! I think I'd better take you directly to the village and have you _face your bride_! She's still waiting for you to return!"

Renaud said nothing; he lay there still like the object he now was. Completely humiliated, he allowed Chip to approach him and pick him up by his handle. "Mirielle cared about you, but apparently you cared nothing about her," Chip said to the shovel sorrowfully.

Belle gave Chip a gentle smile. "The most wonderful girl ever?" she asked.

"W-well..._yes_," said Chip. "And the poor lady is in her wedding gown, at her wedding dance, without her groom. I mean, it's a shame, don't you think?" He held the shovel away from his body as if Renaud was covered in filth. In fact, he was quite a handsome shovel for now- never used or soiled, made of shiny metal and a polished wooden handle. Yet, the face upon it was still the picture of abject humiliation.

Renaud finally spoke up at the mention of his abandoned bride. "Potts- If you could at least find a shred of respect for me, please find Mirielle, and the priest who married us- and have the marriage annulled. It isn't fair to her," he said, a tone of guilt in his voice at last.

"Did you love Mirielle, Renaud?" Chip asked bitterly, resisting the urge to shake the shovel silly.

"No," Renaud shot back, a scowl on his metallic face. "I just needed a wife to start my dynasty and continue my royal line. She was available, I found her to be beautiful, and so I pursued her."

"Perhaps, Chip, _you_ should rectify the situation," said Adam. "I think the fact that you care for Mirielle so much will soften the blow of her finding out that her new groom is now a...gardening tool."

Chip shrugged. "I'll do what I have to do, Master Adam. May I borrow your carriage and horses?" he asked the royal family.

"Of course you may," Adam replied.

Delphine and Fabien took this moment to bid their adieus. "Our work here is done, all of you. We will go now and leave you in peace," said Delphine.

"I urge you to to give away as many of our Enchanted Roses as you can," said Fabien. He addressed Hélene, who still held an armful of fragrant red Roses in her arms.

"We will!" said Hélene excitedly. "Chip, can we _please_ come along? Papa, can _we_ go to the village? It's almost Christmas and we'd like to give the Roses as our annual gift!"

"We will _all_ go," Adam declared. "The time of hiding is finished. The revolutionaries will be kept at bay, as long as our Rose and its enchantments protect us from now on. Fabien- can you multiply even more Roses?"

"I will," he replied. "How many do you need?"

"There are over five hundred people in Molyneux, and about one hundred and sixty or so households, from what I recall," said Adam. "An Enchanted Rose for each household is what we wish to bring."

Fabien waved his wand and conjured a large basket, golden and trimmed with Christmas holly. It was filled with over a hundred and fifty Enchanted Roses, wrapped in bouquets tied with gold ribbons.

"Here you are, Your Highness! Enough for the whole village!" Fabien stepped away from the basket, tipping his fashionable blue hat. "Adieu to you, Adam, Belle, and children! And to you as well, Monsieur Potts!"

"Thank you for all your help!" cried Belle.

"Adieu, everyone!" said Delphine.

"Thank you Monsier Fabien and Mademoiselle Delphine!" Vincent and Hélene exclaimed. The two Enchanters waved their goodbyes and disappeared from the castle dining room in flashes of soft, blue and gold colored lights. The royal family, accompanied by Chip Potts- gripping the shovel also known as Duke Renaud in his hands- left the castle and awaited the horses and royal carriage to be prepared for a trip down to the village.

...

Back in Molyneux, it was now eight in the evening. Darkness had fallen, the December chill had driven a few people home, but those who remained stayed around the cheery fire and had lit up Christmas lanterns and candles throughout the town square. Guests were still dancing and eating the leftovers of the afternoon's lunch buffet. Lefou brought out tankards of his freshly made hot apple-flavored cider brew, and the Molyneux men sat around drinking happily, groom or no groom.

Mirelle was getting increasingly upset at the absence of her new husband. After three hours of smiling and trying to stay cheerful for her servant and village friends, she sat down at the table of food and put her head in her hands. Cogsworth, Pippa, Lumiere and Babette surrounded her, trying to keep cheerful assurances.

"Perhaps he is here, just in someone's home visiting a friend!" Lumiere suggested. "He _has_ made a few friends about the village."

Mirielle gave Lumiere a look of horror at that thought. "A friend? What if he's..._philandering_! Just like what _you_ had said, Cogsworth!"

The majordomo stood up from his chair, a few drinks loosening up his inhibitions. "Confound it, Mirielle!" he shouted. "I have held my tongue _long enough_! Renaud is up to something, and by Jove, I am going to _find_ him and give him the pummeling of his life! I'll search out every dwelling in this village until I find him- likely with some trollop of another woman! I'll drag him out by his ear!"

"Cogsworth!"Mirielle watched in embarrassment as Cogsworth stumbled away, his squat aged body ambling toward the nearest building- Lefou's Tavern. Cogsworth grabbed the door handle and swung it open, ignoring the stares of townsmen drinking beer.

"_Where_ is the entrance to the rooms upstairs?" he yelled to Lefou, who was trying to heat up more apple cider brew in a kettle on the fireplace.

"D'you need a place for the night?" asked Lefou. "One of em's open. I can show ya!" Lefou ran to find the remaining room key while Cogsworth discovered a door in the corner. He opened it and rushed up the stairs to one of the inn rooms. He tried to turn the knob, but it was locked; he pounded impatiently. It opened, revealing Antoine, the cook whom Cogsworth had fired not long ago. He was wearing a nightshirt.

"Cogsworth? What are _you_ doing here? I'm trying to get some sleep!"

"Antoine!" Cogsworth yelled. "_Where_ is Renaud?"

"How do I know?" Antoine spat. "Let me sleep so I can get to my fry cook job in the morning! The last person I want to see is _you_!" He shut the door and locked it. Cogsworth found the other door open, but it was empty and dark. He heard rapid footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Monsieur Cogsworth, here's the keeeey!" Lefou sang out, as he made it up to the second floor. "It'll be fifty livres. You can pay now or I'll write you a bill-"

"Oh, never mind!" Cogsworth grumbled, passing Lefou and clomping back down the stairs.

"_Touchy_!" Lefou said to himself as he watched the man leave.

Antoine, meanwhile, went back to his bed and tried to sleep, but his troubled thoughts and broken heart did not allow such a thing. He got up again and glanced out the window at the people below celebrating Renaud's wedding. He did not see Renaud, or Mirielle the bride, but they weren't who he was looking for. After squinting his eyes for a few moments at a small cluster of people, he could make out a small figure of a familiar young girl. He knew that walk by heart. Chandelle.

"It's no use," Antoine said despairingly. He ought to just go to sleep, then get up to make omelets and fry slabs of ham for his little wage- thanks to Madame Gigi's kind heart. There was no apology great enough, nothing he could say to get Chandelle back.

...

Cogsworth rushed out of the tavern and headed toward a villager's house nearby, grumbling and mumbling. Mirielle and Lumiere spotted him and approached, trying to stop the angry man before he could break open someone's door.

"_Philandering cad! Arrogant, deceitful piece of rubbish..."_

"Cogsworth, you're not _helping_ me any!" Mirielle cried, grabbing Cogsworth by the lapels of his coat. "Let's just go back to the castle!"

"Wait-" Lumiere said, his eyebrows flying up. "Who is _that_, arriving now?" He pointed to a large stagecoach pulled by four fine horses. "Why- it's His Highness! And Belle! The whole royal family!"

Everyone in the village stopped and stared as the carriage arrived in the town square. Chip was the first to disembark, and for some odd reason, he held a large shovel in his arms. He stopped to open the carriage door for Adam, Belle, Vincent and Hélene, who came out one by one to whoops of applause. The royal children were carrying baskets of red roses in their arms.

_"Vive le Prince Adam! Vive la Princess Belle!" _people shouted around them.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Adam announced, "I want to thank you so much for your support over these months. I am sure you are all aware of the unusual magic that has helped keep us safe. So, now- without further comment of my own, here is my lovely wife, Princess Belle."

Belle, a single Enchanted Rose in her hand, waved at the crowd as they cheered for her. She raised a hand to calm them so she could speak. "May I have your attention, please?" They quieted.

"As you see, our children are carrying these baskets of roses. As a family, we would like to give each household in Molyneux a very special rose. Consider this our early Christmas gift to you. We ask you to please keep it in your home."

She held the rose up and people breathed soft sighs of wonder as it gave a beautiful red glow and emanated tiny sparks. "The Roses will keep your family safe, and assure joy and peace for your loved ones forever. Because of our Rose in the castle, we will remain safe from the threat of murderers and revolutionaries. We have witnessed this today, in fact. I am uncomfortable telling you this- but there _was_ an attempt on our lives today. In our own hidden castle."

The crowd gasped and muttered amongst themselves. "Who?" demanded Dick Revelle. He looked angrily at his fellow townspeople. "_Who_ among us is the traitor who tried to kill our Royal Family?"

Adam gestured to calm the crowd. "It is none of your concern, ladies and gentlemen! It was _no one_ from Molyneux, I assure you. And it was _not_ a Jacobin rebel, surprisingly. The man was able to infiltrate my household and plan my assassination. Because of the protective power of our Rose, he was not successful."

"But...but who _is_ he, Your Highness?" Lefou asked.

"That information will be given later, Monsieur Lefou. Please do not worry about the person's identity. He is subdued, and...gone."

"Is he _dead_?" asked Gigi.

Adam glanced over indecisively at Belle and Chip, with Renaud literally in his hands. Belle nodded; it seemed best that the whole ordeal involving Renaud go the way that the Beast did twenty-one years before. He would be assumed 'dead' to the townspeople.

"Yes, my dear friends, he is dead," said Adam. The crowd sighed in relief, and the business of giving the townspeople Enchanted Roses began, with Hélene and Vincent asking for each head of the household- a husband, a father, a mother, or a person living alone- to take a rose for their home and respective family. Lefou, Luc, Noel, and Dick Revelle were the first men to take one, and the rest of the fathers and husbands lined up while the village's children went off to play or were taken home by their mothers to bed.

Chip, meanwhile, stood awkwardly holding the shovel which was Renaud. He turned his head from side to side, sweeping his eyes over the crowd trying to spot Mirielle.

She spotted him soon enough. "Chip!" she cried, running to him in her lovely wedding dress covered with a red winter shawl. She looked like a Christmas angel, the chill air making her cheeks as red as the cape she wore. Chip's heart did a somersault as he saw her.

"Chip, Renaud ran off on me! He took off on a horse into the forest hours ago! Have_ you_ seen him?"

"Mirielle! Something happened." he said breathlessly.

Mirielle stared with wide eyes at Chip's careworn expression, taking in his words of alarm. Finally, she glanced down at the shovel in his hand.

_A shovel._..for burial.

"No..._no_! Oh, Renaud!" She burst into tears, much to Chip's discomfort. "What _happened_ to him? Wolves in the forest? Bears? Did he ride over the bridge and fall and drown? He _drowned,_ didn't he?" she continued to sob.

"He's not dead," Chip said grimly. "He's in..._custody._" he added in a quiet voice. "Take a look at this shovel, Mirielle. Look at it very...closely."

She stared at the shovel, and as she did so, Renaud tried as hard as he could to not move one facial muscle. He tried scrunching his eyes shut, keeping his mouth closed in hopes that his freakish face would disappear and he would become a common, ordinary object. The chilly air tickled his nose, which made it begin to sting and twitch. He could restrain his still-humanlike reflex no longer.

"AAAHHH-CHOOOOOOOO!" he sneezed.

Mirielle's face went pale. She clapped her white-mittened hands over her mouth.

"No! _Oh, no!_ Renaud was the one! _He_ was the assassin Belle and Adam spoke of! And D-Delphine did this to him!" Fighting tears, she looked down at the shovel's face and addressed him, the oddity of the situation no longer fazing her. It was the reality of her own childhood, after all. Her tone went from fear to anger.

"_Why did you do it?"_

The face in the metal shovel-head gave her a look of contempt. "It's none of your business," he said bitterly. "Ask Father Guillaume to have the marriage annulled!"

Mirielle looked to make sure no one else was paying attention to them; all others were greeting the royal family. "You never loved me...did you?"she asked the shovel quietly.

"No," Renaud said in cold disdain.

As Mirielle began to sob, Chip couldn't control his anger any longer. He turned and walked away from her, with Renaud in his right hand. With long, determined strides he made his way to the horse stables behind Lefou's Tavern. Without a word, Chip hoisted Renaud high up, then brought him down again, smack in the middle of a manure pile.

Walking away, he glanced at the resting horses and saw that his favorite horse, Leon, was now missing. "Guess he left Leon at the castle," Chip sighed as he went back to find the distressed bride. He greeted and spoke with townspeople as he went along.

Meanwhile, Mirielle sat at the table in the reception hall near the mostly-eaten wedding cake, crying. Lefou and three of his children, Sylvie, Aimee, and Jean, were helping him clean up. When their father went back into the tavern, they gathered around the jilted bride, curious to know what was going on.

"He _abandoned_ you?" Sylvie Lefou asked her.

"I guess you could say that," Mirielle lamented.

"What a jerk!" Sylvie's younger sister Aimee said. "I didn't like him, anyway. He kept bossing us around. He never paid Jean for delivering his furs, either."

"He was wearing that blue uniform just like His Highness," Sylvie added. "That was disrespectful, like Maman said. She kept going on and on about it, but she _was_ right."

Jean Lefou, his face covered with cake frosting from the previous pieces he'd eaten, was about to eat another. As he started to bring the crumbly piece to his mouth, he stopped to look at Mirielle with guilt.

"More cake?" he asked, holding the messy cake out to her.

"No thank you," Mirielle whispered.

"Okay!" said Jean cheerily, and he stuffed the cake into his own plump cheeks. Aimee made a disgusted face. "Will you _stop_ already?" she scolded.

"Mmm-thhhtill-hhungry," Jean mumbled.

The sight of the little boy trying to talk with his mouth full caused Mirielle to cheer up a little. She smiled at him. "I heard you playing the violin earlier. It sounded really good. How long have you been practicing?"

Jean gulped and swallowed. "Since this summer. 'Bout six months."

"Who teaches you?" Mirielle asked.

"Monsieur Jacques, my schoolteacher. He plays a little. He was in the band today. But he doesn't have much time to teach me music. He has to teach all us village kids reading, writing and 'rithmetic," Jean explained.

"You should have lessons from Monsieur Violiniste at the castle! I can talk to your parents about that. You seem to have a gift," Mirielle said, with a bright smile.

"Really? Wow! Thanks!" the young boy said with gratitude.

Sylvie laughed. "Maybe he'll become good enough to play at Henri's wedding someday!"

"Huh? Henri's getting _married_?" Jean asked.

"Not yet! But just_ look_ at him!" Sylvie pointed out the door at a few people standing around near the cozy bonfire. Henri-Gaston and Felicity Cogsworth were standing close, talking and smiling at each other. Henri had been spending time with Felicity for almost the entire day- dancing, talking, laughing. They had become inseparable.

...

"So...Henri, we've talked about my recipes at the castle, and _you've_ talked about your beer and ale recipes for a long time. What _else_ should we talk about?" Felicity asked Henri shyly.

"I don't know...what about Prince Adam and Princess Belle? Do you think they're safe here visiting the village? What do you think about that? Revolutionaries left, but there _could_ be more coming," Henri said in concern.

"They're safe for now. It's really risky for them to be here, though. My father looks like he agrees- you can practically see smoke coming out of his ears!" Felicity said, observing her father next to Adam. The Prince was drinking a mug of hot apple ciderkin with Lumiere, while Cogsworth tugged at Adam's coat. He was babbling, though too far away for Felicity to hear what he was saying.

Indeed, Cogsworth was fretting. "Master! Please, you must go home now! There are hundreds of people here, and one of them could be a revolutionary! You don't even seem to care! You just told us you've had an attempt made on your _life_\- and the lives of Belle and the children! Yet here you are, drinking cider! This is a time for _constant vigilance!_ _Not_ lounging around with a hot toddy!"

"Cogsworth, the Rose, remember?" Adam said, smiling. "We'll be safe, as long as we have an Enchanted Rose. And so are _you,_ Cogsworth. Now why don't you go see to your wife?" Adam sipped his mug and put his arm around his wife. "The smells of hay and horses around here...I like it. I've missed it, haven't you, _mon ange_?"

"I have," said Belle. "I've wanted to ride Ginger around the castle grounds again. I've missed that...she is such a beautiful horse, looks so much like her grandfather Phillipe. I still miss dear Phillipe," Belle said sadly. The old horse passed away ten years before in the winter of 1782, and Belle and the children had been inconsolable. Phillipe's four foals with his mate, Antoinette, had all grown and multiplied to create a family of beautiful Shire horses with foals of their own- Ginger being the youngest.

Cogsworth went to look for his wife Pippa, but couldn't find her. He panicked and asked around until finally, Lefou ran up to him. "Hey! Monsieur Cogsworth! Are you looking for Pippa? She's at my house, visiting Sophie!"

"And where is your home, by chance?"

"Across from my tavern. Twenty-three Main Street." Lefou pointed to a cozy-looking two-story house with a thatched roof and red window shutters on the corner. "I still have guys to serve, so tell Sophie I won't be home until one o' clock in the morning. _Whew_! Long night!"

"Thank you," said Cogsworth. Lefou began to scurry off to work again, but Cogsworth yelled back to him. "Monsieur Lefou!"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Well...I just want to say I am..._impressed_ by your work ethic. I have seen you bustling to and fro all day, serving drinks to everyone with such _energy._ I commend you for that. And...I apologize for the times I may have snubbed you over the years."

Lefou grinned widely. "Aww, I never thought that! You're not a snob, you're just English. G'night- and _Joyeux Noel_ if I don't see ya at Christmas!"

"_Joyeux Noel_ to you!"said Cogsworth, smiling. "I must go to your home, then, to pick up my wife...and daughter, wherever she is."

"Uh...she's with Henri. My son. They've been dancing with each other quite a bit." His expression went from cheerful to a bit worried. "Gee, I hope you don't mind. My son Henri is a good boy. He just turned twenty, and he's smart and hard working. So...if he's sweet on your daughter...well, guess it's up to you."

"Oh, dear," sighed Cogsworth, exasperated. "Nothing against your son, but- my little girl? Felicity? Sweet on a young man?" He shook his head in disbelief and looked toward the remants of the wedding reception, a wedding which would now have to be annulled. Felicity and Henri were sitting together drinking hot cider. Felicity spotted her father talking with Henri's father; she gave him a big smile and stood up, gesturing to Henri-Gaston to join her. They approached Cogsworth and Lefou.

"Papa, are you going to Henri's to find Mum? We will join you," Felicity said. "This is my new friend, Henri," she said, introducing the tall young man to him.

"Yes, I am, dear. And I see you've made a friend. Good evening, Monsieur," Cogsworth greeted Henri. He noticed the difference in height between the younger Henri Lefou and the older. Henri-Gaston was a towering six-foot-two, while his father Henri-Ignatius was barely five feet.

"He's _your_ son?" Cogsworth asked Lefou, before realizing that may have been rude.

"Yeah. I think he got his height from his Aunt Iolanthe," said Lefou with a laugh. "That's my sister who lives in Thionville now. She's almost six feet tall!"

"Ah, I see," said Cogsworth. "My parents were both tall, I remember. Yet I was given the short end of the gene pool," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Tall is as tall does," said Henri-Gaston. "You're both big men right _here_," he pointed to his chest- "and _that's_ what counts."

Cogsworth laughed a little. "Pippa has told me similar," he said to Lefou, who nodded. They arrived at the doorstep of Lefou's house. The tavernkeeper knocked on his door. Sophie answered, welcoming them in, and Pippa was there as well. The Lefous had a simple but cozy sitting room, the walls covered in antlers and animal mounts. Sophie had placed her family's Enchanted Rose in a vase on the fireplace mantle.

"George," Pippa said, "It's getting very late, and I'm just so tired. I've had such a wonderful time catching up with Sophie. She offered to let us use a room above the tavern for the night. Would that be all right with you?"

Cogsworth thought of his awkward encounter with Antoine and tensed a bit, but his wife's tired eyes caused him to warm up to the idea. "Very well," he said.

...

Chip finally reached Mirielle, sitting alone at the empty wedding table. He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know what to say, Mirielle. 'Sorry' just doesn't do the job," he said.

"You don't have to be sorry," she said. "It's all Renaud's doing. I was just a pawn in his murderous scheme! Why was I so foolish to fall for him? How could I have been so...stupid?"

"You're not stupid, Mirielle," Chip argued, his grip around her shoulders tightening. His hand grasped hers and he leaned close to her ear. "You're the smartest woman I've ever met. _Anyone_ could have fallen for it. Even I was convinced he was just a servant looking for a job."

"I was like a silly schoolgirl, falling for his charming words...he acted as if he were in _love_ with me!" she said sadly. "It was all an act. I've been taken for a desperate fool."

"Sometimes...when a man truly _is_ in love with a woman, he doesn't always want to show it," Chip blurted out. "Sometimes he's just a fool."

"But _why?_" Mirielle said, her brown eyes brimming with tears. She looked into Chip's eyes. "If a man loves a woman, he should make it more _obvious!_"

"You're right...He should."

Chip's grip on Mirielle's hand tightened. He leaned in closer to her, carefully watching the expression in her eyes to see any changes, hoping her sadness would fade. To his delight, her eyes brightened. A spark of joy became very visible and her lips parted.

She leaned her face closer to his, and Charles Potts found his confidence at last.

"How obvious is _this_?" he whispered, before pulling her into a hard embrace and joining his lips to hers.

...

_A.N.- Happy Holidays to all, and thank you for continuing to read this fic. It is almost concluded, just a little more to wrap up! I wanted to have this updated today, since the theme of the chapter was 'Christmas Roses.' Today is my favorite day of the year! Baking cookies, getting turkey and cranberry sauce prepared for tomorrow, and wrapping those last 'Santa' presents! Have a wonderful day! :) -Civilwarrose_


	24. We Were Once Objects

Chapter 24- We Were Once Objects

...

After the long, sweet kiss- which seemed to last forever- Mirielle drew back to take a breath. "How long, Chip? How long have you actually loved me?"

"I've loved you since we were kids- or objects. Back then, I loved you like a sister," Chip admitted. "But sometime last year, when I was sailing on a ship, I read letters of yours and I...couldn't get you out of my mind."

"I wish I'd known."

"Mirielle, I'm sorry."

"Chip...I'm the one who should be sorry!" Mirielle stroked his cheek. "All that time, I thought you wanted to try to win Joséphine back. When she came to the castle, I had to put my feelings for you aside. Once I realized it was over between you two and she was engaged, I tried to let you know. And then- Renaud distracted me. He put his...moves on, being all romantic and telling me what I always wanted to hear from a man. I'm so sorry! And all this time, his feelings for me weren't _real_," Mirielle's remorseful face lightened when she looked at Chip and saw that he was smiling a little. "Where did you put him?" she asked.

"In the manure pile in the horse stables. I ought to go fetch him, because Adam ordered him to work up at the castle. We can't have an Enchanted Object running around Molyneux," Chip added, and Mirielle laughed. "Unfortunately, Mirielle, according to Father Guillaume you are still _married_ to him. What are we going to do about that?" asked Chip.

"Father Guillaume would be horrified to see that Renaud was turned into a talking shovel! I'm worried that the shock might give the poor man a heart attack!" said Mirielle. "I think he's over in the tavern, having drinks with the other men. I don't know how we are going to explain this, but we must. Please, Chip, you _have_ to help me."

"I guess the only way to make him believe is to show him," Chip admitted. He gave Mirielle another soft kiss on the lips. "We have to get this marriage cancelled as soon as possible!"

Chip went back to the stables and saw that Renaud- magically enchanted and mobile- had yanked himself from the manure pile and was now washing himself in a horse's water trough. "Go away!" he shouted to Chip.

"No, I won't go away, Renaud. I have things to settle with you. Mirielle _cannot_ be married to you under this curse, so I'm going to set things right!"

Renaud had just learned how to move around in his new form by hopping and leaping. He wasn't going to allow Chip to manhandle him any longer. He hopped in circles, evading Chip's attempts to grab him by the handle. When Chip came near and put his arms out, Renaud jumped away, darting to and fro until Chip became dizzy. After the fourth attempt to grab the shovel, Chip tripped over a horse's feed box and landed face first in a bed of straw.

When he disentangled himself, he found that Renaud had left the stable. "Blast it!" he yelled as he ran out to find him.

Most of the villagers were home and asleep in their beds by now. The only ones still awake were well-soaked from drink at Lefou's Tavern. For them, the sight of a hopping shovel with a man's face on it would simply be taken as a hallucination- a result of one's brain being awash in all sorts of fermented delights.

So when Renaud burst into the bar room and hurled himself upon a table, the men gazed at him a bit bleary-eyed.

"EVERYONE! Listen! Our village has under attack! It's WITCHCRAFT!" Renaud shouted in terror. "PLEASE! Help me!"

"What_ is_ that thing, Stanley?" asked Dick.

"I think it's a shovel," Stanley mumbled. "But it might just be Tom sitting there, I dunno. I'm too wasted to see straight, ha-ha-ha!"

"Don't you want to burn the _witch_?" Renaud pleaded. "You ought to gather your torches and pitchforks!"

"Tom, you're drunk. Shuddup about witchcraft and go home." Dick said, yawning and trying to stand from his chair. "I'm turning in too, Stanley. G'night."

"Won't anyone _listen_ to me?" Renaud screamed, tapping his shovel handle on the wooden table loudly. "You drunken sots! I'm a victim of a _curse_ here..." Renaud spotted the village priest, of all people, sitting in a corner with a tankard of ale. He leaped off the table and hopped towards him.

"Father Guillaume! You are the man of the hour. You must get rid of a witch. She was in the Prince's castle and deserves to be burned at the stake!"

"_Mon Dieu_, I'm seeing things!" the priest said with a guilty sigh. He pushed the tankard of ale away and crossed himself. "Father, forgive me for my indulgences-"

"It's true!" Renaud tapped the priest on the knee painfully with his handle. "_Ow!_" Father Guillaume shouted.

"Listen!" Renaud snapped. "If you want to be a respected man of the cloth, you have to purge this village of evil! And believe me, there is much evil and vile sorcery lurking tonight! I'm actually a man! I have a curse cast upon me!"

"You're a shovel...yet you say you were a man." A memory crept into the priest's mind. "Looking at you reminds me of something. Yes, there have been strange and evil occurrences before. I have witnessed them," Father Guillaume admitted. "Twenty-one years ago, my fellow townspeople and I saw candles and feather dusters with faces in the Prince's castle. There was once a monstrous Beast there as well. Please, I'm a simple village priest who has no power over such things. I'm just a weak man, with poor spiritual discipline," he said guiltily. "I'm not in my right mind tonight. Too much merriment. Good night, strange creature," The priest ignored the shovel's loud pleas and got up from his chair to leave.

As he was walking out of the tavern, he was cornered by Chip and Mirielle. "Sir- Father Guillaume, we were looking for you!" cried Mirielle in exhaustion.

"Have you seen a talking shovel?" Chip asked him irritably.

The priest sighed. "I have had a long day, young man...I need to sleep." He recognized Mirielle. "Aren't you today's lovely bride? Where is your husband?"

"He's dead, sir," Mirielle blurted out before Chip could say anything.

"Dead?" The man looked puzzled. "But he was such a handsome, virile man, full of energy! How could he be dead?"

"Sir, remember Prince Adam's speech today? The attempt upon his life?" Mirielle asked him.

"Yes-"

"My groom, Renaud, was the assassin who tried to kill His Highness!" Mirielle exclaimed. "He was unsuccessful. And-" Mirielle thought quickly- "my husband accidentally fell from a castle balcony to his death this evening. I am a widow!"

Mirielle began to cry- though her tears were as fake as Renaud's former proclamations of love. Chip decided to stay quiet and let her continue to explain.

"Oh, no...how tragic!" exclaimed Father Guillaume. "Another remarkable young man, falling to his death! This night is so full of coincidences, it's like that strange night over twenty years ago, back when Gaston de Soleil..." He stopped babbling about the past and remembered the more recent oddities. "The castle...it miraculously vanished. Could it still be there?"

"Yes, the castle is back," Mirielle replied, wiping her eyes with her pretty red cape. "But I no longer have a husband," she sobbed.

"I am terribly sorry, Mademoiselle. Is there anything I can do?" Father Guillaume asked her soothingly. "Tomorrow, though. I haven't been feeling well," he added. The shovel must have only been a figment of his illusions, he realized.

Mirielle turned to Chip and gazed at him with love and hope. The look in her eyes pleaded for him to say something- to ask the minister to marry the two of _them,_ as soon as possible.

Chip frowned and leaned towards her ear. "Mirielle, it's too _soon_ to ask about that," he told her quietly.

_He's right. How could I be so foolish?_ Mirielle thought. The priest would think it suspicious for a widowed bride to be willing to marry _another_ man on the same night she should have spent with her now-dead groom! Chip could even be suspected of being the one who killed Renaud, just to take his bride. Mirielle needed to be a proper widow and have her proper grieving period.

"No, Father Guillaume. You don't need to do anything for me. Good night, sir," Mirielle said in a saddened tone.

"Good night," the priest said, tipping his hat to her and walking out into the night. Just as he left, Chip stood in the tavern's doorway and spotted that demonic-looking shovel hopping about. Anger flooded his being.

"Renaud!" He took Mirielle by the hand and shut the door before the Enchanted Object could escape him again. He rushed toward the accursed thing and tried again to grasp him.

"You won't be able to take me, Potts! Just _try_!" Renaud ducked underneath a bar table. Chip bent down to get him- and Renaud gave Chip a painful poke in the stomach with his handle. Chip winced in pain and decided to reason with him.

"Renaud, do you _ever_ hope to be human again? If you do, you _must_ go back to serve in Adam's castle!"

"Why would I want to serve _there_?" the shovel hissed from his spot underneath a table.

"Do you want to be like this for the rest of your natural life? I know what it's like to be cursed and turned to an object! Mirielle and I both suffered just as you did!"

"What? You're crazy, Potts! You've never had such a thing happen to you!"

"It's true! I did! My own mother went through it! Mirielle _herself_ went through it! That woman who did this to you? She also ruined _my childhood_!" Chip screamed in frustration.

"It sounded like she had done it to someone before..." Renaud said quietly, remembering that strange magical woman and man. He moved out from the spot under the table.

"She did! It's true, Renaud!" Mirielle interjected, anger in her voice. "If you would learn to stop being so selfish and listen to other people, you might _learn_ a thing or two! I wasn't shocked to see you as an object. I know all about this curse! I spent my childhood as a tiny SPOON!"

"Oh, please," Renaud rolled his eyes in disbelief. "A spoon?" He glanced at Chip. "And I suppose, Potts, that you were about to tell me you used to be a bowl?"

"Not a bowl, Renaud." Chip looked around the empty tavern madly, thankful that the other men were now absent from the building. All villagers had left. He saw what he was looking for on the mantel of the tavern's fireplace- a pretty tea set with a pot and china cups. It belonged to Sophie. It was her birthday gift from Chip's dear Mama several years back; a sort of nostalgic joke between Sophie and Mrs. Potts.

Chip walked over to the fireplace, noticing the beautiful painting of Adam, Belle, Vincent and Helene that hung where Gaston's portrait used to be. He reached up and took a cup from the teaset.

"_This_ is what I was, Renaud!" Chip said, holding the teacup over his head and gesturing with it in angry exasperation. "How would_ you_ have liked it? To be a little boy, once able to play and run, and hug your mother, and then- turned into _this_? You had said your mother was a palace maid, right? Did you love her?"

The surly expression on Renaud's flat metallic face fell. He blinked once or twice. "Yes. I loved my mother very much. She was a very sweet woman who felt she had to obey the Duke- my real father. She did what he ordered her to do, and that is how I was born. She's passed away since."

Chip's expression softened. "I'm sorry for your loss, Renaud. My mother was also a kind woman who lived to be eighty years old. I lost her two years ago, her old heart gave out. She was the most loving, strong, most wonderful mother I could've ever asked for. And that Enchantress stole ten years of her life, by turning her into a teapot like this one!" Chip pointed to the teapot on the fireplace mantel.

"What did you mother do wrong to be punished like that?" Renaud found himself asking.

"Nothing," Chip replied. "But was she bitter about it? No! Was it her fault? No! She still sang, she still danced, and worked, and loved her life no matter what. Even though she had no arms to hug me with her teapot body! And I had no legs to run or play. I was a teacup who was supposed to be a little boy- but I learn to_ live_ with it! Because of my mother and her wonderful character!" Chip was near tears; Mirielle gently touched his shoulder.

"It's true, Renaud," Mirielle concurred. "I had to live with it as well. If you can serve for ten years, you can be changed back. Please, Renaud, please try to work and live the way you are with the Object Curse, and you will have hope. We _always_ had hope!"

"My mother taught me to have hope," said Chip. "I know she's proud of how I turned out. Do you want _your_ mother to be proud of you, Renaud?"

Renaud was beginning to feel heartbroken. "Of course I do! She had no other living children besides me. She died in childbirth with my baby sister- who didn't live. I would have had another sister besides Joséphine..." At the thought of Joséphine, he was filled with sorrow. "I should have went to Austria with her...she knew that I was her brother and cared about me. She's the only family I have left!" Tears filled his still-humanlike eyes.

"You've chosen your fate, Renaud," Chip said solemnly. "Someday you could see your sister again. Someday you will get your own self back. The Enchantress will be watching your behavior. She gave you ten years, perhaps she might have pity for you and transform you back earlier."

"We'll what we can do to help," said Mirielle. "But only _you_ can choose to be humble and patient. I'm so sorry this happened... I don't hate you for what you did," The abandoned bride was overcome with pity for this cursed soul- despite his wrongdoings.

"Is there any hope for me?" Renaud asked them in agony.

"Yes. Like I just said, we lived though our curse _never_ giving up hope," said Chip. "You see, Renaud, you're not alone. It wasn't only Mirielle and I, and my mother. Others lived for years with their forms changed by the Enchantress. Many of those people you've already met!"

Renaud couldn't help but be curious. "Who?"

"That I can't tell you, to protect their privacy," said Chip. "Let's just say that many people in the Prince's castle staff, and even a few people here in Molyneux, can remember what it was like to live as a household object with a human soul inside."

"But she broke her terrible spell on you...e_ventually_?"

"Yes," both Chip and Mirielle said.

"Then...let me return with you to the castle. I will work in the stable," Renaud said mournfully. "I suppose my only friends will be Leon and Beau-Noir, and Elodie and Ginger."

"I always loved the horses, too, Renaud," said Chip. "During the curse I would sneak outside to see them. I used to admire Michel the stableman. Do you know why?"

"Why?" Renaud asked, an expression of brokenness and true humility on his face at last.

"He was the one who kept the palace horses alive and fed all those years. If anyone can relate to your... predicament, it would be him," said Chip.

"What do you mean? Was Michel cursed, too? What was _he_ turned into?"

Chip and Mirielle looked at each other and smiled. "That we can't tell you. Unless he wants to tell you himself," Chip said. Their friend Michel spent ten years as a lowly feed bucket.

"I suppose he'd rather forget it, then," Renaud said as he followed Chip and Mirielle out of the tavern. The three of them realized that they missed the coach ride to the castle at this late hour; Adam and Belle and their children had left without them.

"Are there any more rooms upstairs at the inn, you think?" Chip asked Renaud.

"No." The shovel tried to gesture to the sign Lefou had on his tavern door. It said 'No Vacancies.'

"No room at the inn," said Mirielle, laughing. "How perfect for Christmastime. We will have to sleep in the stable, then."

Chip nodded. "It's after midnight now. I guess we'll just go there." The man, woman and shovel went quietly though the dark and sleepy town of Molyneux to the horse stable, where Renaud lay his shovel-form against a hay bale. Chip and Mirielle snuggled together in a corner on a pile of straw, warm from the large bodies of the sleeping Clydesdales nearby.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Mirielle whispered to him.

"What?"

"The cupboard. Remember?"

Chip laughed, and kissed Mirielle again. "It does for me, too."


End file.
